That Moon Song
by grayhello22
Summary: They survived. No, they thrived. But somewhere along the way Owen and Claire lost each other. Now, with the threat of dinosaurs roaming the Earth once again, Owen and Claire, along with some familiar faces, will have to work together to end a war before it begins. And just maybe... find each other again.
1. Life Got In Between

He hated that garden.

He couldn't stand how colorful it made the front of the white farmhouse look. It irritated him to no end how organized yet organic it all felt. The roses were in full bloom. Their scent saturated the air and wafted through the house whenever a door or window was open. He hated how everything about it reminded him of _her._

* * *

 _"Now you're sure about this?"_

 _He looked her over closely, taking in every detail. Her hair was longer, coming just past her shoulders in a gentle natural wave. She wore a pair of light wash blue jeans with the pants cuffed up at the bottom that hugged her in all the right places, and a pale pink, drapey V-neck blouse. To put it simply, she was beautifully dressed; comfortable and fashionable all rolled up into an attractive package._

 _But it wasn't her wardrobe that made her so beautiful. It was that gentle, simple, peaceful smile that made his heart stop and speed up all at once._

 _Claire Dearing was glowing as she looked around the empty farmhouse kitchen. The numerous windows allowed light to flood in and catch on the cream bead board walls and cabinets, the white farmhouse sink, the dark stained oak wood floors. The sun danced atop Claire's fiery tresses and lit her azure orbs._

 _"I mean," Owen began shakily, his voice void of the almost smarmy confidence she was so used to hearing in his warm timbre, "it's no city high rise or beach bungalow. And if you don't like the décor we can change it…. Make it as modern or as country chic as you want."_

 _Claire's smile grew as she walked over to the former raptor trainer, the heels of her penny loafers clicking as she went. His hair needed a trim, the strands beginning to curl at the base of his neck. One of her hands went to tease the back of his neck as the other gently grasped his firm, muscular arm, covered by a faded blue oxford rolled up to the middle of his forearm._

 _She looked up at him, his strong, scruffy jaw clenching every so often, a sure sign that he was nervous. Claire smiled again as she pulled him down for a soft, sweet kiss._

 _"I love it, Owen."_

 _He smiled and pulled her in for another kiss. A giggle escaped Claire's lips and Owen had to laugh as well. If only all those egg heads in the control room could see her now, giggling, almost dancing across the room, gazing out a large window, overlooking the front yard. They would never believe it._

 _"I could plant a garden out front."_

 _Owen smiled skeptically and crossed the room, standing behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist. Claire's hands came to rest upon his and her head fell back to rest in the crook of his neck._

 _"I didn't know you liked to garden."_

 _He couldn't see it, but he could feel her smile form and fall slightly. A gentle hum came up from the back of her throat, "When we were younger, we had to move around a lot, for my dad's work," he squeezed her a little tighter at the mention of her father and kiss the back of her head._

 _"We never really got to stay anywhere for very long. But Mom… she would always plant a garden. She would make Karen and I pull out the weeds in the flower beds and she would drag us to the nurseries and get daises, and roses, and tulips, and every other flower under the sun. We never got to really see them fully grow. But she always said, 'We're planting this for the next family. We're planting this so they know that the family before was loving and happy. We're planting this so they know that it was a home.'"_

 _Claire turned around to face Owen, his arms still wrapped around her petite frame. She in turn wrapped her arms around his sturdy, toned waist._

 _"I've never planted my own garden before."_

 _"Well, you were always pretty busy at the park. You were a workaholic, remember?"_

 _Owen chuckled and Claire grinned. But only for a moment; her expression turning serious. Claire gazed up into his gorgeous green eyes; his sweet nature shown through his cocky smirk and radiated from those glistening emerald irises._

 _"It was more than that," Claire started, "for me, whenever we planted a garden, it meant that we were home. At least for a while. I never felt like Isla Nublar was home. I never felt like I belonged there._

 _Claire looked over her shoulder, back out to the front yard, "But here," Claire looked back to Owen, "with you. It feels like home."_

 _Owen didn't even try to hold back the smile that broke out over his scruffy face as he pulled her into a quick, passionate kiss that left both of them weak in the knees. Claire's fingers carded through the strands of hair at the base of his neck as Owen pushed the small of her back up against the white farm sink. All too soon, Owen broke their kiss, smiling brightly at the woman in front of him, "Well then, let's plant you a garden."_

 _Claire smiled, dimples forming in the corners of her mouth. She pulled him down for another heart stopping kiss…._

* * *

"Lieutenant Grady," a sharp, stern voice broke Owen.

Owen turned his gaze away from the front yard to look back at the man sitting in front of him on the other side of the dining room table, his cup of coffee untouched. He was a small man, dressed in an immaculate suit, his graying, thinning hair parted perfectly to one side. He wore thick, black rimmed glasses that were reflecting a bit too much of the sunlight flooding through the kitchen and dining room windows.

"I'm sorry," Owen answered, "what were you saying?"

The man nearly rolled his eyes, something Owen didn't miss.

"Masrani doesn't want to put these animals down. They didn't ask to be created but created they were. Because of that, someone needs to protect them. Unfortunately," the man fiddled with his glasses, "very few are willing to come back and help secure these animals. The Costa Rican government has been very patient but time is running out.

"What are you getting at, Mr. Dunham?" Owen never really did care for exposition.

The question threw Mr. Dunham off, but he quickly recovered, "You were one of the few people who made it off the island. You were one of the few people who were able to keep the raptors under some semblance of control. You were highly recommended by several high up Masrani employees. To put it simply, Lieutenant, we want you to come back and help recover all remaining living dinosaurs on Isla Nublar."

"Is that it?"

Mr. Dunham was rattled again, "I'm sorry?"

Owen clenched his jaw and looked out at the window before turning his gaze back to Mr. Dunham, "I am one of the few but I'm not the only one who survived the island. I'm also not nearly qualified enough to do what your asking me to do. Now I can give you names of people that can help you. Good people that are in it for the right reasons. But I'm not hearing why you need my specifically."

Now it was Mr. Dunham's turn to look out the window and at the garden. He glanced back to Owen before taking his glasses off and setting them onto the table.

"Lieutenant Grady," Dunham started, "you are a highly decorated officer in the U.S. Navy. You lead numerous successful reconnaissance and intelligence missions."

"Now you're not making any-"

"I'm not finished, Lieutenant."

Owen shut up. He was surprised at Mr. Dunham's confident voice. He was beginning to respect this Dunham character.

"Exactly eighteen months ago, you left Isla Nublar. Exactly eighteen months ago, so did Dr. Henry Wu, who up until six months ago, was believed to be deceased. Dr. Henry Wu, who stole several samples of dinosaur genetic code as well as several samples of hybrid species. He has now sold these samples on the black market."

Owen's blood ran cold.

"Now, Lieutenant Grady. You've seen many things in your years with the Navy. Terrible, terrible things. You know what happens when people of power, people who are afraid of losing their power, will do anything to keep it and destroy any threat to losing it."

"So you want to stop Wu. I get that. I applaud it. But again," Owen needed clarification, "I still don't understand why you need me."

"You are one of the best authorities on dinosaur behavior. While you help obtain and relocate the dinosaurs, you will study their behavior, all the different species. And once they are obtained, you and a team of your choosing will attempt to go after Wu and stop him before it starts."

Owen's jaw clenched and he drummed his fingers across the dark wood of the dining room table. He looked out to the garden again, "Before what starts?" He already knew the answer. He could feel it in his bones.

"A war, Lieutenant. The likes of which we've never seen."

Owen's eyes closed, bile collecting in his throat. He was so tired of fighting. He was so tired of tending, cleaning up the mess of men and women more intelligent than him, who's hubris was effectively destroying everything he held dear. So he stared out the window, watching a hummingbird flutter around the flowers and over to the bird feeder she had insisted of putting up.

"How long do I have to think it over?"

"Seventy-two hours."

Owen nodded his head, wrapping his knuckles lightly on the table.

Mr. Dunham nodded in reply before standing up, pushing his chair in, and picking up a briefcase that had been resting against one of the legs of the table. Owen rose to see him out.

He opened the large Dutch door. Mr. Dunham stepped through briskly, taking another look at the beautiful flower garden in the front of the charming house, "I do hope you agree to help us. There are few people Ms. Dearing trusts. You seem to be one of them."

Owen's eyes narrowed, "I'm sorry, did you say Ms. Dearing? As in Claire Dearing?"

Dunham stared in confusion, "Why yes. She's been working on this operation for the past few months. She's been helping us set up our teams and procedures. She's an integral part of this operation."

Anger boiled in his veins and Owen's grip on the sturdy wood of the front door creaked in his right hand, "And who else has… _Ms. Dearing_ , asked you to contact for this operation?"

"A Mr. Lowery Cruthers, a Mr. Barry Cisse,"

"You know what," Owen cut Dunham off, blood boiling in his veins, "I'm in."

"Excellent! Ms. Dearing will be thrilled! Information of your departure and missions will be sent to you within the next twenty-four hours."

Dunham stuck out his hand for Owen to shake, which he did, although maybe a bit too forcefully. With that, Dunham gave Owen a curt nod and walked down the few brick steps. Owen watched Dunham walk down the brick path to his generic four dour sedan parked in the gravel driveway.

Owen's stare shifted to the flowers in the front yard. The colors of the dozens of flowers created a beautiful contrast against the white wash exterior of the beautiful Pennsylvania farmhouse. The organized way in which they had been planted had given way to an organic shape and flow of flowers and bushes. He breathed in the delicious aroma of the roses, tulips, and daisies as it wafted through the door and surrounded him. It smelled like _her_.

He didn't know why he looked after and tended the garden. He hated gardening. But he couldn't… he couldn't let those flowers dies. If they died it meant…. He couldn't let them die.

Owen slammed the door.

He hated that garden….


	2. I Never Said Thank You For That

_Here it is! Chapter 2._

 _I don't own the Jurassic Park/World characters/stories. I simply play what if with the universe._

* * *

He loved this house. The way the flower garden smelled when he first walked up to the front door, the way the light seemed to create an almost halo around the whitewash boards, no matter what time of day. He loved the large yard and the numerous maples and evergreens that surrounded the property. It felt like a home, a real one. He couldn't remember the last time anywhere had felt like home.

It had been nearly a year since they had left Wisconsin, packing up what happy memories they had of the house as their mother had been offered a once in a lifetime job and some company that he never could remember the name of in Pennsylvania. It would have been harder, for both Gray and him, if Aunt Claire and Owen hadn't moved as well.

This place, this house, this was home for Zach Mitchell. It was at this house that his mother was able to relax, enjoy her life and her family. It was where Gray could rattle of ridiculous facts and figures without his father's obvious irritation to silence him. It was here that Zach was able to see and get to know the Aunt Claire his mother would always talk about, the woman he remembered when he was just a kid and she didn't have the weight of the world on her shoulders. It was at this house that Zach finally felt like he could be a kid, happy to have another man look out for his family and ease a burden Zach didn't fully realize he had been carrying. This place was home.

He needed to feel that again but knew that he wouldn't. No, this house hadn't been a home since his aunt left six months ago. Without a word and seemingly overnight, the Aunt Claire he knew and loved vanished. No one, not even Owen knew where she went or why she left and they had all taken it pretty hard, but especially Gray and Owen.

Since "the incident," as it was called in the Mitchell household, Aunt Claire and Gray had become extremely close. Zach figured it had something to do with their insane ability with numbers and facts and all the stuff that he just couldn't wrap his brain around. Claire could speak his language in a way that no one, not even Karen could understand. Since Claire's sudden disappearance, Gray had become quieter, more reserved than usual, retreating into himself without his friend and confidant to talk to. Zach couldn't deny that his aunt had pissed him off a little because of that.

And Zach hadn't known Owen as well as his brother or his mother, but he could see, just as clearly, what Claire's leaving had done to him. Owen had always been the life of the party, the jokester, the fun one, whatever you wanted to call it. There was a joy for life that Owen had that was contagious.

He was still funny, still a blast to hang out with, but Zach could see that it took something out of Owen, like it was actually physically demanding to be so… Owen. He would still crack a joke, was still the easy going bad ass raptor trainer that he always was, but deep down, Owen Grady was sad. And Zach was pissed that his aunt put his friend… and a father figure, through this.

Karen had seemingly taken it in stride. But then again, his mother was used to his aunt's antics. She'd probably been preparing for Aunt Claire's runaway since they all moved out to Pennsylvania. And that was what pissed Zach off the most. After everything that had happened, after all the growth his aunt had seemingly gone through, they were all here, suffering. And his mother was so used to it that it didn't even faze her anymore.

Zach walked around the front of the house, following the sound of tools banging around in the garage and a man cursing, quite literally, like a sailor. An old, red, Dodge Charger sat in the garage, its hood up with Owen tinkering away. Zach tensed at the sight. Owen only ever worked on the Charger when he needed to blow off steam.

"Rough day?" was Zach's sarcastic remark.

Owen barely looked up from his task, turning the socket wrench as spoke, "Something you want to talk about, Sherlock?"

Zach grimaced slightly. He deserved that, "Sorry. I'm trying to work on this whole, being a smartass thing. It's slow going." That got a smile out of Owen and Zach relaxed a bit, "How you doing?"

Owen looked up, twirling the wrench in is hand before walking over to a workbench to set the tools down and wipe the excess grease from his hands, "Take it your mom told you what happened today."

Zach nodded, "It's not everyday that your aunt calls after six months of radio silence to tell your mom that she's back at Jurassic Hell. Not to mention the fact that she asked you to come back. And that you agreed to go back."

Owen gave a quick, broken grin as he leaned against the workbench, crossing his arms to look at the young man in front of him. He hadn't known Zach for very long, but he knew something was off. The young man kept shifting his weight, clenching his fists in his pockets, averting eye contact.

"Your mom told me something today."

Zach's eyes shifted quickly to Owen, "Oh? What'd she say?"

"She told me that you're joining the Navy."

Silence filled the space between them.

"Umm… yeah. Yeah, I am."

Owen grimaced, "When did this happen?"

Zach took a deep breath, "You're disappointed."

"I'm not disappointed. I just want to know why you feel the need to do this. This isn't the kind of decision you rush into."

"I know that."

"So why are you signing up?"

"For college."

"You don't need to enlist in order to go to college. Your mom could pay for it. Claire would pay for it in a heartbeat. Hell, I could pay for it, Zach."

Zach rolled his eyes and moved to cross his arms, "I've already done this with Mom, Owen. I didn't come here for a third degree."

"Then why did you come here, Zach?"

"I thought you would understand. You were in the Navy."

"I was. And I know what's waiting for you on the other side. Out of everyone you could talk to, you should have known that I would be the hardest person to convince. If you have a good reason, then I'm beyond proud of you for doing this. But I'm not hearing anything that is going to convince me that this is what's best for you."

"Then I guess this was a waste of time."

"Just tell me why this is so important to you, Zach?"

"I've seen what happens to people with power, people who are afraid to lose it," Zach's voice was tense and cold, "All this shit that you and Mom are so worried about me seeing, experiencing, news flash, Owen, I've seen it. I survived it!"

Silence filled the garage again.

Owen waited patiently, ready for Zach to continue.

Zach took a deep breath, his voice slow and steady, "I've seen what happens when there are no checks and balances. I've seen what happens when people try to make money from war. And I want to do what I can to make sure that doesn't happen. I want to do something with my life that matters. That's why I'm joining."

Owen looked him up and down, sizing up the young boy that had become a young man. He wasn't Zach's father, but he had a feeling that this is what it felt like to be a proud father.

"Then I guess I should tell you that I'm proud of you."

Zach's breath stilled and an enormous weight he didn't know he'd been carrying was lifted off his shoulders. The two men smiled at each other before Owen went back to working on the Charger. Zach watched in silence for a few moments.

"So when do you leave for Isla Nublar?"

Owen's movement stalled, but only for a moment, "Tomorrow morning."

"Why did you agree to go back?"

Owen stopped, staring down at the engine in serious need of some tender, loving, care. _Why the hell am I going back?_

He needed to know if Blue was alive, even though that was a long shot. He needed to make sure that Barry would be okay because God knows what idiots Masrani hired to help. He needed to make sure that no one else had to go through another Jurassic World. He needed to prove that all the bad things he saw and the terrible things he did weren't about to go to hell because some arrogant prick of a scientist wanted to make a quick buck.

He needed to know why she left. He needed to know why she didn't talk to him before she decided to alter both their lives forever.

"Closure."

Zach nodded, seeming to understand and Owen went back to work.

"Why didn't you ever get a new motorcycle?"

"What?"

"I know how much you liked your motorcycle on the island. You still talk about that bike all the time. Why'd you get the Charger?"

Owen gave a quick grin, "I loved that bike. My granddad and I, when I was about your age, we worked on it every weekend." Owen looked up, a faraway look in his eye, "My home life wasn't the best. My dad… he wasn't a good guy. And those weekends with my granddad… I felt more at home in that garage than I did in my own house."

Zach nodded.

Owen continued, "It wasn't the bike, Zach. It was all those weekends that made me love that bike. "

A comfortable silence fell between them.

Zach stayed a few minutes more and offered Owen a place at the Mitchell's dinner table. Owen politely declined and walked Zach to his car. The two shared a brief hug. Zach opened the door to his car and leaned against the frame.

"I never said thank you, you know."

Owen smiled, his eyes squinting from the light of the setting sun, "Zach, that was over a year ago. And you did say thank you, so much that I started to get sick of it and told you to stop."

Zach chuckled at that before his countenance grew serious again, "That's not what I meant."

Owen looked at Zach, puzzled.

Zach glanced down at the ground, shuffling his feet, and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his dark wash jeans, "Thanks for sticking around. Even after everything that happened. I don't… I don't know what Gray would have done… or me. I don't know what I would have done if you'd… you know."

Owen gave a small smile before pulling the nearly eighteen-year-old into a quick, powerful hug. He pulled away as to save Zach some embarrassment, clapping him on the shoulder, "We're family Zach. No matter what, I'm always gonna be here for you and Gray, hell, even your mom."

"And we're here for you."

Owen's smile grew, "I know, man. I know."

* * *

She always hated that bike. She hated how loud it was, how greasy he got when he worked on it. She hated how his eyes green eyes glowed when the engine would turn over correctly. She hated that it sat in the garage of the small bungalow in one of the few secure areas of the island that she now lived in.

* * *

 _"You know, we could afford a new bike," she spoke; weary of his answer, as she pulled back the plush, soft sheets of their queen sleigh bed._

 _"Wow, you must really love me to offer up a new bike," he gave her a smug grin. She couldn't decide if she wanted to slap or kiss it off him._

 _She smiled, deciding to let it go as she got into bed, pulling the covers up to her waist. He walked over to the bed, his broad, beautiful chest on display, his thin sweatpants hanging low on his hips. She watched him as he leaned over his side of the bed, giving her a quick kiss that she was more than willing to accept._

 _"I want you to be happy, Owen. And if," Claire swallowed hard, unable to believe the words coming out of her mouth, "if getting a bike makes you happy, then I want you to get a new bike."_

 _Owen smiled brightly as he got into bed, taking her delicate hands in his calloused ones. The pad of his thumb rubbed a small, almost unnoticeable burn scar that ran along the back of her hand, the only evidence left behind from a flair used to lure the King of the Dinosaurs out and to lead them all to safety._

 _"For a long time," Owen started, "I didn't have a home. My dad was awful, my mom wouldn't leave him and I couldn't understand why. I always hated coming home and for a long time the only real stability I had was my granddad."_

 _Claire hated hearing about his childhood and teenage years. Owen was a good man, a kind man, the kind of man that deserved everything good in the world. And for so much of his life, he seemed to get the short end of the stick. Claire reached up, carding her fingers through his short hair._

 _"We would work on his old motorcycle every weekend. We wouldn't even leave to eat. My grandma brought lunch and dinner out to us," he smiled at the memory of his grandparents, "and when I went into the Navy, right before he died, he left it to me."_

 _Owen leaned into her hand as Claire stared into his eyes, "That bike was the only thing I had left of my granddad and my grandparents were the closest thing I had to having a home. It… it was my garden. Buying a new bike isn't going to bring all that back."_

 _Claire's azure orbs glazed over with tears, a few escaping here and there. Owen wiped them off her beautiful, round cheeks when they did. Claire closed her eyes and looked down at the covers, guilt coloring her features. Owen's face contorted, concern for her etched into every crevice, "What is it?"_

 _"I'm sorry, Owen._

 _"For what?"_

 _"You lost that bike because of me. Because of every single person that thought we had it all under control. You lost the last piece you had of your family, of your home, because of me."_

 _"Claire-"_

 _"You've given me so much," she looked up at him now, tears falling freely from her eyes, and tears were forming in his own, "and all I've done is take from you."_

 _"Hey," Owen's hands framed her face, forcing Claire to look him in the eye, "I don't need it, Claire. I don't need it anymore."_

 _"Owen-"_

 _"You're my garden now. You're my bike. You're my girl. You're my home. For the first time in my life, I have a real home. You, Zach, Gray… hell, even Karen, you've given me a home. You've given me something that I've searched for my whole life."_

 _She kissed him. Her mouth sliding sweetly over his, both her hands finding their way into his hair. His hands finding their way around her trim waist…._

* * *

RING! RING!

Claire looked down at the ringing cellphone in her hand, a familiar number flashing on the screen. With a swipe of her finger, she answered the call.

"Claire Dearing."

"Ms. Dearing, it's Peter Dunham."

"I know, Mr. Dunham. What can I do for you?"

"I just thought you would like to know that Owen Grady has agreed to come back to help."

Her breath caught in her throat at the mention of his name, "Oh. Wonderful… that's wonderful."

"I thought you would be pleased. He will be back on the island in a little over eighteen hours."

"Thank you, Peter. That's wonderful news."

"Of course, Ms. Dearing. I will contact you as soon as I have heard from Dr. Grant. Have a good evening."

"You too, Mr. Dearing."

Claire turned her phone off as she heard the dial tone of the ending call, a heavy weight falling on top of her that she hadn't carried in over a year. She didn't want him here, didn't want to subject him to all the dangers this island held. She didn't want to subject him to the very real possibility that Blue was dead or would have to be killed, having probably gone rogue by the lack of contact with him over the past eighteen months.

Claire looked at the bike sitting in her garage. It was damaged, beyond repair in the hands of most mechanics. But Owen wasn't a regular mechanic. Not that it mattered. She would probably never get the chance to give it to him, considering he probably would want nothing to do with her once he got on the island.

Not that she could blame him. She abandoned him and the boys and Karen without so much as a goodbye. She wanted to tell him, talk to him, explain it all. But she couldn't it. Not yet.

What was the point of keeping it? What is the point of holding on to something that just reminded her of what she took from him… again?

Claire turned around, her back facing the motorcycle as she turned the lights of the garage off, cloaking the machine in darkness.

She hated that bike….

* * *

 _Alright! There it is! Hope you enjoyed it. Please review. I'd love to know how you all are feeling about the story and where it's going._

 _I'll update ASAP!_

-grayhello22


	3. I'll Be Seeing You

**_Here it is! I'm so sorry it has taken so long for the next chapter of this story. Work and school have me running around like a chicken with my head cut off. No matter, here is a new chapter. Please read, review, and enjoy._**

* * *

The evening air was warm and dry. It was a welcome contrast to the recent cold front that most of the Northeast had been swept up in. Music from the kitchen drifted through the air, the scent of the dying roses from the garden wafted into his nostrils. The forecast was calling for snow in the next few days, not that it mattered to him. In a few days he would be back on a hazardous, death defying, tropical paradise. Add the recent reappearance of an AWOL Claire Dearing and news that his nephew by almost all accounts was going into the Navy, and Owen was having a hell of a week.

Zach had left a little over an hour ago, leaving Owen to pack and finalize arrangements for the Parker family down the road to keep an eye on the house while he was gone.

Owen's worn out Navy duffle and backpack sat by the front door filled to the brim with clothes, supplies, and accouterment. His rifle sat on a small stand, cleaning and maintenance supplies surrounding the weapon. The sight needed to be corrected and there was some build up in the muzzle but nothing that Owen couldn't fix in an hour or so.

RING! RING!

Owen walked from the back porch through the open French doors that lead to the kitchen and the phone. He glanced down at the Caller I.D. immediately picking up when Karen's name flashed across the small screen.

"Hey, Karen. What's up?"

 _"Hey honey. How you holding up?"_

Owen chuckled to himself. Claire was right. Karen was such a mother to everyone around her, "Well, considering all the shit that's hit the fan the past few days, I'm doing remarkably well."

 _"Well, if I know anything about you, I know that it's nothing you can't handle."_

"I appreciate the vote of confidence," Owen paused; unsure of where the conversation was going. Karen wasn't one to just randomly call and shoot the breeze, "What did you need, Karen?"

 _"I was just calling to see what time your flight is. We want to be there to send you off."_

Owen wasn't one to get overly emotional. He could count on one hand the number of times he cried or nearly shed a tear. But Karen's simple statement caused his throat to close up. He still wasn't used to having such a close-knit family so close and so compassionate around him. It still caught him off guard when Zach and Gray accidentally called him "Uncle Owen" or Karen offhandedly mentioned her "brother-in-law" to someone that he and Claire had never met. And it always made his flutter whenever Claire introduced him as her fiancé. Fiancé… what a crock.

"Karen you guys don't need to do that. I've got to be at the airport at 3:30 in the morning and it's a school night. Don't worry. I'll be fine."

 _"So we will pick you up in about five hours and take you to the airport."_

"Karen-"

 _"Look, Owen,"_ he could hear the annoyance in her voice, " _You're not going off into the jungle to fight and wrangle dinosaurs without your family there to send you off. And it doesn't make any sense for you to drive yourself. You'd pay a fortune in long term parking by the time you got back and I know how much of a cheapskate you are."_

Owen wished he could travel through the phone and hug his would be sister-in-law. He hated asking anyone for a favor and Karen refused to let him shrug off how much he actually needed to have family around right now.

"Okay, Karen," Owen chuckled as he gave into the woman's demands, "Pick me up at 2:00 A.M. I'll be ready for you."

 _"Wonderful,"_ she took a breath, _"now was that so hard? Jeez, Grady, you're no better than Claire."_

Both Karen and Owen's breath caught in their throat at the mention of the AWOL Dearing. They had both taken Claire's sudden and unexplained departure harder than anyone else in their family, though they both showed it the least. Owen quickly changed the subject.

"So how are you doing with Zach's news?"

 _"Owen,"_ Karen took a shaky breath _, "I'm terrified. The last thing I ever wanted for either of the boys was a life in the military. No offense."_

"None taken."

 _"It's just… I can't help but think about all the worst case scenarios and I keep thinking about bringing Zach home from the hospital and his fist step and his first word and all I see when he's talking about the Navy is my little boy who's still five and trying to tie his shoes."_

Owen gave a small frown and searched for any word of comfort or encouragement for Karen, "I know it doesn't help you much, but he's got eight weeks of basic training, and then he'll get his placement which is probably gonna be some grunt job for the first year. He won't even really get into his specialty until the end of his second year. And if he's gonna get his degree while he's in, then Zach will probably get a cushier job while he works at school. "

"I appreciate the attempt, Owen. But he's my baby. I'm always gonna worry."

The Navy man chuckled a bit, "And that's what makes you a great mom."

 _"Well,"_ Karen shifted topics, _"Zach, Gray, and I will be at your house at 2:00 A.M. to pick you up and take you to the airport. Get some sleep. You're gonna need it."_

"Okay, Mom."

 _"Ha. Ha. Ha."_

Owen snorted a laugh as he and Karen hung up. He glanced about the kitchen, taking it all in as his eyes fell on the open doors that lead out to the warmly lit back porch…. 

* * *

_A small evening breeze drifted around her as she stood on the back porch, taking in the twinkling stars and moon above her. The Edison lights that zigzagged above her head gave off just enough light to keep her from tripping over her feet. Music from the kitchen drifted through the air, the scent of roses from the garden wafted into her nose and Claire couldn't help the goofy grin that graced her face._

 _"I think I would give just about anything to keep you smiling like that."_

 _Claire whirled around to see Owen leaning in the doorway, his strong arms crossed over his broad chest. A contented grin danced across his lips and Claire wanted to kiss it off his face. He was out of his work clothes (which were a bit too constricting for his taste, she knew) and the newly minted associate professor of Zoology at Villanova. A pair of worn, broken in jeans now hung on his trim hips and a ratty gray t-shirt hugged his broad shoulders. He had never looked more handsome._

 _"Well," Claire began, a sexy smirk forming on her face, "why don't you come over her and kiss me, Mr. Grady? That would most definitely make me smile."_

 _Owen didn't need any more encouragement. In three long strides he was standing in front of her, his hands around her waist as hers came up behind his neck. His gorgeous emerald eyes gazed down into her beautiful blues and Claire could feel the air leave her lungs. Passion burned through his gaze, but something more powerful, more stirring than any longing, smoldered in Owen's eyes. Love radiated through his gaze. Affection poured out through his grip on her hips._

 _Owen gave a quick grin as Claire pulled him down for a kiss. Their lips melded together in a slow and delicate kiss. Claire's slender fingers carded through Owen's dirty blonde hair as Owen's spread across her lower back. The couple began to sway with the music playing in the background. The couple broke the kiss but continued to sway with the melody of the song. Claire looked up at Owen, unable to control the overpowering flood of adoration and undeniable affection that coursed through her veins._

 _The truth was that Owen Grady drove her crazy. He would constantly leave his clothes on the floor, apparently unable to throw them in the hamper that was two feet from where he dumbed said dirty clothes. She couldn't stand it when he came in from the garage with grease and oil stains from the car he was restoring. Claire couldn't keep count of all the times she had to clean his stubble out of the sink or how many times she had been forced to listen to Springsteen's_ Born In The USA _album._

 _But Owen didn't bat an eye when she would blast Billie Holliday through the house while they cleaned. He didn't get annoyed when she locked herself in the office upstairs and filled out reports and sent off press releases. He always made sure to do the shopping because she was lucky if she would remember to feed herself at all throughout the day. And Owen didn't get angry or impatient when she reverted to Corporate Claire and whipped out itineraries for the weekend._

 _And if she really thought about it, Claire didn't mind too much about his dirty clothes. The sight of him taking them off more than made up for the mess. Claire could handle the grease stains. He only ever really worked on the car when Gray and Zach came over, needing a place to get away from everything and simply talk. The stubble wasn't a big deal either, since he let her use his razor… most of the time. And even though she couldn't stand The Boss's voice, she loved seeing Owen's face light up when he belted out the lyrics while driving down the road._

 _The truth of it was that Claire Dearing was head over heels in love with the Navy man, turned raptor trainer, turned college professor, Owen Grady._

 _"So," Owen said, glancing around to look at the lights above their heads and then at the deck around them, "I was thinking that we should probably finish sealing the deck. Winter is gonna be here sooner than you know it and it's gonna be a pain in the summer if we don't fix it up now."_

 _Claire nodded her head, her gaze never leaving his handsome face._

 _"I was thinking that we should get married."_

 _Owen was in the middle of a sentence when Claire's statement finally processed. He snapped his head back to face her._

 _"What?"_

 _Claire would have been worried that his dumbfounded expression meant a rejection if it wasn't for the goofy grin that was plastered onto Owen's face._

 _There were so many words on the tip of her tongue. Things like, 'I am so incredibly in love with you and I want the world to know,' 'I want to get to call you my husband,' 'I want to start spending the rest of my life with.' And they were all true. But no matter how much progress she'd made over the past year with him, or the two years of dancing around each other before, Claire still struggled to express herself so freely._

 _Owen watched all these thoughts play out. Claire's eyes dimmed and brightened ever so slightly every few seconds as she decided how to respond. He didn't really give a damn what she said so long as she said she stood by her previous statement. The ring in his back pocket, the ring that sat hidden in every single one of his back pockets for the best month was hoping she meant it, too. And his prayers were answered when any doubt or fear in Claire's gaze disappeared._

 _"Marry me, Owen."_

 _Owen smiled wide as he moved to brush a falling strand of her fiery hair from her face, "Of course I'll marry you."_

 _Claire let out chuckle that was a strange mix of happiness and relief before pulling Owen down to kiss him. His lips were on hers and Owen was kissing her like she was oxygen. Claire gripped the tendrils of his hair as Owen lifted her up and twirled her around, never breaking their kiss. She began to giggle and Owen couldn't help but laugh as he lowered Claire back down to the ground._

 _"I guess I should give you this then," Owen said as he pulled out an engagement ring. The round cut diamond and platinum band sparkled underneath the full moon as Owen placed the ring on Claire's slender finger. She couldn't help but stare at it, then Owen, then back to the ring._

 _"Owen," Claire was speechless, "how… when…"_

 _"I've been carrying that ring around for about a month. Just waiting for the right moment," Owen let out a chuckle, "but I guess you beat me to it. Not that I'm surprised. You've always been the take charge kinda girl."_

 _Claire laughed as tears welled in her eyes. Her hands cupped his stubbly, chiseled face and pulled him in for a long, slow, and passionate kiss. Owen smiled like a Cheshire cat as Claire wrapped her arms around his neck and Claire giggled as he picked her up and carried her into the house. Owen used his foot to close the door behind them and a Billie Holiday song played softly in the background…._

* * *

Claire pressed the skip button on her steering wheel, bypassing the Billie Holiday tune. She couldn't bring herself to listen to that song. Not right now.

Lush plants and healthy palm trees passed by her in a frenzy of greens, yellows with the occasional spot of red and blue. The rev of the engine cut through the music every now and again as Claire traveled along the recently rediscovered road.

It had taken nearly a week to get the shrubs and overgrown grass cut down to create a clear path from the control center to employee housing and the ferry docks. But they had cleared it and now Claire could travel around the main parts of the park with relative ease.

In just two months, Claire had lead a small but effective team of wranglers, handlers, trainers, and ACU personnel in the obtaining of all animals located in the Aviary. The team had been able to track down the few remaining Apatosaurus and several other widespread herbivores. The fences and security measures will all back online. Everyone now on the island could live once again in relative comfort and safety. But the T-Rex, the remaining Velociraptors, and Mosesaurus were at large. Queue the call from Mr. Dunham.

The Masrani middleman had proven to be useful when recruiting former employees back to the park. Lowery had been the easiest to convince to come back. A true kid at heart, Lowery jumped at the opportunity to come back and restore life in a world that encapsulated every childhood hope and fantasy. He wanted dinosaurs alive, protected, and free.

Barry wasn't so easy. He was weary of the company's intentions as well as any InGen involvement. Mr. Dunham had given him a detailed plan on the recapture, and ultimate preservation of the park. And when Dunham mentioned that Claire was heading up the preservation of the animals and their environments, Barry hesitantly signed on.

And then there was Owen…. She didn't want him to come back. She didn't want to bring him back to the likelihood that Blue and Delta were dead. She didn't want to rip him away from the life he had built since Jurassic World. But Masrani's board made it clear that is was paramount for Former Lieutenant Owen Grady to return to the park. Claire refused to give the order of recruitment to Dunham. Fat lot of good it did her… and him.

In exactly twenty-seven minutes Lowery, Barry, and Owen would arrive on Isla Nublar to help locate and obtain the dinos at large. Lowery would lead the technicians in the control room while Owen and Barry would be in charge of the "acquisition of assets" as Corporate Claire would say without batting an eye. Just the thought of that cold, unfeeling turn of phrase made Claire sick to her stomach. In exactly twenty-seven minutes, Claire would be forced to face the man and the life she left behind so suddenly. The drive to the helipad couldn't come fast enough and at the same time, Claire wished it would take forever to get there.

And in the blink of an eye, Claire was at the helipad on the other side of the park, watching as the chopper hovered and landed with relative ease.

She watched Owen, Lowery, and Barry file out of the helicopter, ducking their heads to avoid the propeller blades above. Lowery was shouting something that Claire couldn't make out but it made Barry laugh. Owen simply kept his head down and his hands on his old Navy duffle and his rifle case. There was no laughter in his face, no mischief in his eye. He was once again the Raptor Trainer: gruff, no nonsense, detached… from humans anyway. Claire knew that she was partially to blame for that. _It's what's best for him and you know it. You. Out of his life. It's what's best._ Then why did it hurt so damn much?

Claire fiddled with the simple silver chain that hung around her slender, freckled neck as she watched the helicopter land. Occasionally, her slim fingers would rub across the smooth platinum band or the elegantly simple diamond that rest on the chain.

And then, all of a sudden he as there, standing in front of her for the first time in six months, and Claire couldn't believe she didn't remember how devastatingly handsome he was. He was as tall and as broad and strong as she remembered. He had shaved recently, the common three-day stubble no where to be found on his chiseled cheeks. His hair was a little longer and was parted slightly to the right with a few curls resting on his forehead. It took everything in her not to raise a hand to brush them back.

"Hello, gentlemen," Corporate Claire came to the rescue as the redhead slipped back into a smooth, practiced routine speech as she lead the three men to black SUV parked near the helipad, "if you would just follow me, I'll debrief you on the current situation before I drop you off at your accommodations. After you get settled in someone from Operations will pick you up and get you to control so we can hammer out the logistics of your assignments.

"Good to see you too, Claire," Lowery deadpanned and both Claire and Barry gave a small smile. Owen glanced over to the SUV and began to walk to the trunk and load up all their gear. Lowery and Barry shared a nervous glance as Claire's smile quickly fell from her face.

Owen silently loaded the luggage up into the trunk of the SUV. Lowery and Barry took their seats in the middle of the SUV, leaving shotgun for Owen. He took it reluctantly and Claire silently prayed for the universe to open up and swallow her whole. When that didn't happen she put the SUV in drive.

The drive was relatively silent aside from a snarky comment from Lowery or a question from Barry. Claire was talkative enough and genuinely seemed happy to have the three men back on the island with her. Owen stared out the window and watched the trees go by.

His silence continued as Claire dropped Barry and Lowery off at their rooms. She made no attempt to break through the silence or tension. She simply drove. After about ten minutes, Owen opened his mouth to ask Claire when they would get to his house for the duration of his stay. He wouldn't admit it to anyone, but Owen was tired and really wanted a chance to crash for a couple hours until the major briefing. But then Claire made a left hand turn and Owen knew exactly where they were going…. 

* * *

Owen stared at the bungalow. Everything was as it had been when he'd last seen it. He could tell that the vegetation had been recently cut down, mowed, and pruned. He looked at Claire in disbelief.

"I…" he knew the bungalow was well out of the way for the road crews. He knew that it wasn't a priority to clean up road that lead to his home, his first real home since leaving the Navy. But Claire had made in a priority. She had made sure he would have a place to call his own on the island. Owen looked the place over once more before turning his gaze to her, "Thank you, Claire." A weak smile adorned his beautiful, full lips.

If she was surprised by his thank you, Claire didn't show it. She simply smiled and nodded her head. Without a word, she walked back to the SUV, leaving Owen to his bungalow. He watched her get into the truck and drive off before carrying his luggage into his home away from home. We was nearly to the front porch when he saw it sitting there, right where it had been when she first drove up to his bungalow. His grandfather's bike, Owen's _motorcycle_ , stood up straight and proud in the yard. A toolbox and several workbenches were stationed on either side of the bike, ready for Owen to break them in.

It was beat up, to be sure. The gas can was nearly completely busted in. Paint was chipping and Owen was pretty sure the top end of the engine was completely fried. But it was there and it was beautiful. Owen looked back to the shrinking form of Claire's SUV, the car leaving trails of dust from the dirt and gravel that lead up to his house. A quizzical expression danced across his face as Owen glanced back and forth between the woman driving away and the bike sitting at his house.

"Huh." Owen said as he through his duffle over his shoulder and walked into the bungalow. 

* * *

**_Okay, you know the drill! Hit that little review button and give me your thoughts, criticisms, and cool quips._**

 ** _-grayhello22_**


	4. Just To Know You're There

Just want to say thanks for all the story favorites and follows that I've gotten so far. i'm glad that you all seem to be enjoying this story. Hope this next chapter is equally entertaining!

Please read and review!

-grayhello22

* * *

Exotic birds chirped outside by the recently refilled bird feeder by the porch. A small, stale breeze wafted throughout the room through the barely opened window and sunlight crept in through the translucent curtains that danced with the wind. It was peaceful, relaxing, and the sleep had been some of the best he'd had in six months. If only his damn cell would stop ringing.

Owen sat up in his bed, thin cotton sheets pooling around his bare waist and rubbed the sleep from his eyes and smoothed out the laugh (or were they frown) lines from his face. It took only a few seconds to get remember where he was, years of military training and highly developed instincts kicking in, enabling him to get his bearings. With a twist and crack of his back (years of wear and tear catching up to his body) and a rub down of his knee (an old war wound) Owen was up and reaching for his cellphone. It was a number he didn't recognize.

"Hello?" Sleep still lingered in his voice and it she forgot just how much she loved the sound of his voice first thing in the morning.

"Hello, Owen," Claire said softly, uncertainty as clear in her voice as the sleep was in his. Owen's eyes widened and any remnants of exhaustion fled his body.

"Hello, Claire," a plethora of comments, questions, and useless remarks raced across his mind. He settled with, "Is everything okay?"

"Mr. Dunham and Commander Bishop have a meeting scheduled with several key personnel to discuss the preliminary game plan to get the preserve up and running… And he would like you to be there," she hated how detached and impersonal she sounded. This wasn't some run of the mill employee, this was Owen. Her Owen… but she couldn't risk it. Couldn't let him get too close, "Will you be able to be ready in fifteen minutes?"

Owen closed his eyes and took a deep breath and frowned. Corporate Claire was back… no. Corporate Claire wasn't the problem. Corporate Claire was strong, resilient, and could hold her own in any boardroom. This was the Claire that had her heart broken by that asshat Conner during her junior year of college. This was the Claire that got picked on in high school for being Captain of the debate team. This was the Claire who got rejected on the elementary school playground because Bobby Tompkins didn't think her freckles were cute (the idiot). This was the Claire that refused to let anyone get too close after her dad died of a heart attack because it hurt too much to give up another piece of _her_ heart. This was Itinerary Printing, Need To Be In Control of Something For Once, Claire Dearing. _What happened to her?_

"Sure. Just need to get a shower and change my clothes. I'll be ready in ten," she sounded frazzled and stressed and he wasn't going to be the one to add to it.

"Excellent. I'll… um… I'll pick you up in ten."

"You will?" _Wow, Moron, that was subtle._

 _"_ If that's… I mean, I hope that's okay."

"No! I mean, it's totally fine. I just…" Owen sighed deeply and tried to regain his footing, praying she didn't hear rejection where pleasant surprise resided, "Isn't that out of your way?"

"Not at all. I was out at the raptor paddock earlier this morning and it's on my way into the main part of the park."

"What were you doing at the raptor paddock?"

"I was showing Dr. Grant around and giving him a rundown of your program research and the progress you made with the girls up until… well, up until the Indominous."

Owen's mouth went dry, "Dr. Grant? Dr. Alan Fucking Grant? He's here?"

"Language, Mr. Grady," Claire's voice gave away the grin on her face as Owen, who within twenty seconds had reverted from a tough, stoic raptor trainer, to a dewy-eyed six-year-old girl (a foul-mouthed one at that), "and yes, Dr. Alan Grant is here. The two of you are going to head up the predator recapture and relocation."

"Well excuse me, Ms. Dearing, but it's not every day that you get to meet your career idol and inspiration. Cut me a little slack here, Red."

The nickname rolled off his tongue so effortlessly that it left them both breathless. She forgot how much fun their banter was. He forgot how easy it was to talk to her. And for a moment, they forgot about the past six months. Only for a moment, though. Just as quickly as it left, the memories returned and Claire shrunk back into her shell and Owen put on a brave face.

"So.. I'll be at your place in ten minutes."

"Right. Ten minutes."

She hung up first….

Owen picked at a loose string of his Carhart canvas pants and watched a blur of saturated greens and reds and yellows pass by. Every so often he would work up enough courage to steal a look over at the pretty red head driving the black Land Rover. At first glance, Claire Dearing appeared to be the epitome of calm and collected. Her face was relaxed and her eyes were trained, but not overly focused on the compact dirt road ahead of them. But the white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel told Owen Grady a completely different story.

He had so many questions that needed to be answered and so many things he needed to tell her. But one look at Claire and Owen knew that it wasn't the time to bring those things up. She was skittish; much like Blue had been when she had first hatched, unsure of the world or the intentions of the people around her. So Owen simply stared out the window in silence, playing with a frayed stitch on the side of his pants.

Claire watched him from her peripherals. He was dressed in what had once been his normal work attire. Canvas pants, Carhart button up shirt and leather vest that served as his "Batman Utility Belt." His signature four-day stubble stretched across his cheeks and a small curl of sandy brown hair had fallen onto his forehead. She longed to reach out and swipe the strands across his head. The butt of his gun sat in the floorboard underneath his feet, Owen's grip tight on the muzzle of the rifle.

"You need a haircut," Claire stated, seemingly serious but the small smirk on her gorgeous, full lips gave her away. Owen couldn't help but smile back.

"Haven't had much time to worry about that. Between packing for this, getting work and the house squared away, you're lucky I remembered to shave when I got here. But you're right. I do need one. It's hard to shoot again when you've got to Beiber flip your hair out of your eyes every five seconds."

Claire's smile faltered slightly at the mention of Owen's job and their house. God, she loved that house. She missed the warm inviting kitchen and the memorable dinners with Karen and the boys. Claire missed the back porch and fire pit she and Owen would sit by, cuddled up together on cool summer nights. She missed the garage outback and the sounds of Springsteen or John Fogerty playing in the background as Owen tinkered with the beat up Charger while Zach helped and Gray talked their ears off. She missed her garden out front; the smell saturating the wind outside and infusing deliciously with the air inside the house. Claire missed it all.

"Well, I'm sure we can find someone to get you a trim. I'll see what I can do."

"Thanks, Claire. I appreciate it."

"Of course."

Owen smiled weakly as the conversation lulled. Desperate to kill the silence, Owen began to poke and prod the woman next to him.

"So have you talked to Karen or the boys at all? Recently?"

Claire refused to make eye contact, but he could see a hint of a frown twitch in the corner of her perfect mouth, "Yes. Just before you got here."

Owen nodded and looked away from her and back to the windshield, "So you know about Zach."

Claire's jaw clenched and Owen swore he saw her sapphire eyes glimmer with unshed tears before her expression steeled, "Yes."

Owen nodded again, "He came and talked to me about it."

This time it was Claire who chanced a glance at Owen. What she saw broke her heart. A strange, confusing mix of guilt, regret, and pride was etched into the beautiful contours of his face. Owen's strong jaw was clenched and he was absent-mindedly picking at some dead skin on in the inside of his palm, a clear sign of stress and anxiety. It was one of the few tells Owen Grady had, but Claire never missed them.

"What did you talk about?"

He didn't answer at first, and after a few awkward seconds of silence, Claire thought he wouldn't at all. But Owen finally opened his mouth, "I swear it was exactly what I told my granddad when I told him I was enlisting. And he was so… he wasn't a boy anymore, Claire. It's like he just woke up and he became a man overnight and I hated how much sense he made and how proud I was of him for making such a big decision. And I couldn't help but worry about him."

"I'm sure that's how your grandfather felt when you told him," Claire threw a small smile his way and Owen didn't even try to fight the warmth that coursed through his veins because of it.

Owen scoffed, "You're probably right. Karma sure is a bitch, ain't it?"

And just like that, the small smile fell from her face and Owen saw a single tear roll down her cheek. Claire wiped it away, thinking she could catch it before Owen caught on.

"Look," Owen started, ready to give Claire the same speech he gave to Karen, "it's not gonna be as bad as you think. I mean, yes, he will get called to active duty but – "

"It's not that," Claire's voice was cold and pained and Owen's heart clenched at the sadness reflecting in those beautiful blue eyes of hers.

"Then what is it?"

Owen never got his answer as Claire pulled up to the remnants of the Visitor's Centre located in the middle of the park. She put the Land Rover into park, turned of the engine and unbuckled her seat belt in one fluid motion before opening her door and getting out of the car. Owen watched as she opened the back passenger door to retrieve her briefcase and lean down to pick up a box of manila folders in the floorboard. And as she did, a silver necklace fell out from underneath her white cotton blouse, complete with a platinum engagement ring on the end.

A lump formed in Owen's throat at the sight of Claire's engagement ring.

"Claire," Owen started and she looked up to meet his gaze, suddenly aware of what had him so flustered. The two locked gazes for a few moments, tension, panic, confusion… and an undeniable sense of love swirled around them.

"Lieutenant Grady!"

Owen and Claire tore their gaze away from each other to see one Mr. Dunham waving politely at the couple. Next to him was a man dressed in a combat uniform, Navy issue by the look of it. Commander Bishop, Owen thought to himself. This man was without a doubt Owen's C.O. for the mission at hand as well as the battle after. Owen chanced another look at Claire, who was in the process of closing the passenger door, before grabbing his rifle and rucksack before slamming his own door behind him.

Owen took and shook Mr. Dunham's hand, surprisingly happy to see the portly gentleman. He returned salute to Commander Bishop and after a few quick introductions, the four of them walked up the stairs leading into the Visitor's Centre. Bishop and Dunham pushed ahead of Claire, whose hands were fairly full with more paperwork than Owen ever cared to see. He had a feeling she was going to be working on it through most of the night. He saw her struggling to open the door so Owen raced up the stairs to hold the heavy mahogany door open for her.

"You ready to meet Dr. Grant," Claire tried desperately to strike up a new conversation with any topic other than Owen's sighting of her engagement ring.

Owen smiled sweetly, letting it slide. Patience, he reminded himself, patience is key, "I'll try my best to be professional, if that's what you're worried about, Ms. Dearing."

Claire returned his gentle grin with one of her own, "That's all I ask, Mr. Grady. Professionalism is key."

"I'll take your word for it," Owen replied saucily and Claire gave a shy smile as she ducked her head a bit lower and walked past Owen into the Visitor's Centre. Owen walked through the entrance, letting the door close quietly behind him, but not before he heard the not too distant roar of the T-Rex in the woods a few miles up behind the resort.

Owen's grip on his gun got a little tighter…. 

* * *

There it is! And now we start to delve into Owen's missions, Claire's reasons for leaving, and dinosaurs. Get ready. It's gonna be a crazy ride.

Again, please review. I love to know what you guys are thinking.

-grayhello22


	5. We Decided To Get Hurt

**_Okay! Here is the next chapter. Sorry it took so long to get up. Life has been pretty hectic. But I digress._**

 ** _Please read, review and enjoy._**

 ** _Also, I should probably mention that in this story, The Lost World, and Jurassic Park III never happened._**

* * *

They walked just a few steps behind Mr. Dunham and Commander Bishop into a large, crowded conference room when Claire noticed an older gentleman, wearing tan canvas pants, a denim shirt, and a wide brimmed Fedora style hat. She tugged on the rolled up sleeve on Owen's arm. When he glanced over to her, she smiled and nodded in Dr. Grant's direction.

In no time, Owen had made a b-line for the archaeologist.

Claire had to hold in a laugh when Owen practically ran to "the Dr. Grant," Owen's voice practically shouted in her mind. Grant was standing in the corner of the crowded conference room, and smiled brightly as Owen stuck out a hand to shake. The older gentleman graciously accepted and Claire couldn't help but smile as Owen's face lit up like a child's at Christmas.

Claire walked past the two of them to the front of the conference room where three chairs were placed at the front end of the table, catching snippets of their hurried introduction.

"Your work with the raptors was impressive…"

"It's an honor to work with you, Dr. Grant…Don't know if you remember this, but I met you once…the punk kid that you scared the shit out of with that raptor claw… Inspired me to study paleontology and animal behavior …"

"Glad to know I didn't scare you off…my wife tortured me about that for months…"

The two talked animatedly before taking their seats as Mr. Dunham, Commander Bishop, and Claire began the meeting. Introductions to the team heads were given. Lowery debriefed the tech crew on their jobs, laying out the plan of attack for getting all systems back online and operational. Lowery made a point that his team would answer to Claire, who would then relay information to Dunham and Bishop.

"And what, exactly, are Ms. Dearing's qualifications to be so fundamental in the clean up process.

Owen snapped his neck, eyes zeroing in on the young man who was idiotic enough to ask such an insulting question. His protective instincts were taking over and he would have stood up if not for Barry's firm hand on his forearm, telling him to stay still.

Dunham opened his mouth to respond to the question but Claire beat him to it. Her brow furrowed as sapphire eyes narrowed. The young Corporal realized too late that he had challenged Claire Dearing. And that was something no man in his right mind would ever think to do. Get him, Red.

"I was the Senior Operations Manager of this park. Not only do I have extensive knowledge of the computer and communications systems of the park, but I also have dealt with the Costa Rican government, quite successfully, for the past four years. Not to mention the fact that Masrani Global trusts me and is willing to send any and every piece of equipment I deem necessary," Claire took a breath as she placed her hands on her slender, shapely hips. Her eyes never left the frightened Corporal's.

"In short, you have complete access to equipment and park information, as well as an ally when dealing with the Costa Rican government that is, on a good day, wary of our presence on this island. Is that enough to justify my position on this team, Corporal…"

"Jennings, ma'am," the young soldier answered, raising his chin slightly in an attempt to save face.

"Jennings," Claire repeated, finishing her statement.

Jennings nodded quickly, his jaw clenching in embarrassment and a not so small amount of fear and newfound respect for the fiery redhead in front of him. Owen let a quick grin slip out as he witnessed the exchange. He twisted in his swivel chair, picking at some dead skin on his palm. Claire noticed the small smile that graced his lips and she couldn't help the bubbling pride that swelled within her.

She turned her attention back to Jennings, "Now are we finished with this pissing contest? There are quite a few things to go over and very little time to discuss."

The room rumbled with quiet laughter. Even Commander Bishop cracked a smile. Jennings' shoulders slumped in embarrassment.

"Thank you, Ms. Dearing," Mr. Dunham attempted "The first phase of the mission is simple. Dr. Grant and Lieutenant Grady's main object is to locate any raptors still living as well as assist in the recapture and relocation of the rest of the species running wild in the park. Mr. Cisse is responsible for the day to day care and recuperation of the animals."

Mr. Dunham stopped and swallowed; taking in the focused, skeptical looks around the crowded conference room, "This is not an attempt to rebuild the park. Neither InGen nor Masrani Global are willing to make the same mistake, for a third time, in assuming that we can control these animals. Instead, along with Ms. Dearing's help, the Costa Rican government has agreed to set aside the island as a preserve. The U.S. Navy and Costa Rican military will continue to monitor activity on the island and will ensure that these animals will live in peace."

Mr. Dunham nodded and glanced over at Claire sitting next to him. She acknowledged him with the tilt of her chin before turning to address the rest of the room, "There will be no further genetic experimentation or breeding of dinosaurs by InGen or Masrani Global. These animals will live out their lives and once every species has died off, the Costa Rican government will take over."

Owen tried to fight the growing smile on his face as Claire's words tumbled around his head. She wasn't just helping to clean up this mess that InGen and Masrani created. Claire Dearing was using her sharp mind and brilliant business tactics to right the wrong that was the I-Rex. She'd hoped and prayed for this moment and now she finally had the chance. Owen had a sudden urge to walk across the room and kiss her.

"And what about Phase 2?"

Owen fought back the reactionary urge for his eyeballs to roll into the back of his head. Instead he craned his neck to look over his left shoulder at the young, mouthy Corporal who just couldn't seem to learn to keep his trap shut. Claire raised her head, gaze shifting from the legal pad she was taking notes onto the insufferable young officer.

Dunham and Commander Bishop apparently were just as annoyed if the gruff timbre of the Commander's voice was anything to go by, "Phase 2 doesn't need to be discussed until Phase 1 is well underway, Corporal," Bishop's jaw set and his aggravated gaze zoned in on the mouthy young man, "Furthermore, Corporal Jennings, you are not currently assigned to the Phase 2 team and if you are unable to contain any further outburst or interruptions during this meeting, I will make sure you are never assigned to said team. Understood?"

Jennings blanched and visibly sank further into the small group of military personnel standing around him.

"What exactly is Phase 2?"

Owen turned to look back at Claire. Her brow was furrowed in confusion and her skin was flushed.

"Ms. Dearing," Mr. Dunham began, dismissal in his tone, "you don't need to worry yourself with that. Phase 2 has nothing to do with Isla Nublar."

"I'm sorry," Claire's tone was clipped, no nonsense, and stern. Oh shit, Owen thought, poor Mr. Dunham. Owen chanced a look at Barry and Lowery, the three of them sharing the same amused yet terrified look. Everyone that didn't know Claire Dearing, Senior Operations Manager of Jurassic World, was getting a crash course in How To Piss Off The Boss: 101.

Rule Number One: No one puts Claire in the corner.

"Mr. Dunham," Claire sounded professional but Dunham immediately understood that he had fouled up, "According to you, I am responsible for everyone on this island. I was also responsible for every employee and animal at Jurassic World. If it concerns anyone or anything in these categories, I need to know."

"Ms. Dearing," Dunham began, trying to save himself

"I think Ms. Dearing makes an excellent point," Owen spoke out and all eyes turned to him. Owen kept his gaze fixed upon Dunham, Bishop and Claire, "No one here is under a full, non-disclosure agreement."

Dunham looked flustered but Commander Bishop sat beside him, staring at Owen, studying his motives. Owen took it as a good sign and continued, "Look, we're all here working to create a safe environment for these animals as well as doing what's best for the rest of the world. But we can't do that if we can't trust each other. And we can't trust each other if secrets are being kept needlessly."

Commander Bishop clenched his jaw and glanced over at Dunham beside him before shifting his gaze back to Owen, "I agree with the Lieutenant."

"Commander Bishop," Dunham was scrambling, "I have explicit instructions from the InGen and Masrani boards that…"

"I don't answer to InGen or Masrani Global," Commander Bishop nearly snarled as he addressed Dunham. Claire and Owen glanced at each other as tension filled the room.

Bishop continued, "The U.S. Navy has given me command of this mission and I will do everything necessary to ensure the success of it. And Lieutenant Grady is absolutely correct," Bishop scanned the room and took account of everyone in the conference room, "Everyone here is potentially risking their lives. It's only fair that they know what they could be dying for."

Claire's heart jumped into her throat. She suddenly didn't want to know what Phase 2 was.

"The U.S. military has been tracking the movements of Dr. Henry Wu almost immediately after the collapse of Jurassic World. When he fled the island, Dr. Wu confiscated at minimum, three samples of each of the eighteen featured dinosaur species."

Owen studied Claire as Bishop explained the nature of Phase 2. She was calm, too calm for his taste. Claire was only this calm when she was worried, her docile demeanor a mask for the gears turning in her head.

"According to our intelligence," Bishop watched the occupants of the room carefully as he spoke, "He has been in contact with several militant groups in Somalia, The Democratic Republic of the Congo, Uganda, Syria and Columbia. There appears to be a bidding war between the groups to obtain these samples and have the species weaponized by Dr. Wu."

Claire felt bile rising in her throat. Countless conversations and meetings with Dr. Wu flashed through her mind. Why hadn't she realized? Why couldn't she see the kind of man he really was? The kind of man that would sell a weapon to the highest bidder… why couldn't she have stopped all of this before it started?

"Once Phase 1 is complete," Mr. Dunham jumped in, acknowledging Commander Bishop's superiority in the situation while doing so, "You, Ms. Dearing, along with Dr. Grant and Mr. Cruthers, will stay behind with a team of your choosing, to create an infrastructure that will ensure the preserve's success."

"And what about everyone else," Lowery, always the one to point out the elephant in the room, asked skeptically. Claire's gaze shifted to Owen, searching for the answer in his piercing green eyes. He gave her the sliver of a sad smile and Claire's heart stopped. No, please, God. No.

"Lieutenant Grady and Mr. Cisse will lead a strike team to infiltrate Dr. Wu's operation, acquire the stolen samples and apprehend Dr. Wu and as many of his accomplices as possible."

"And exactly who is in this strike team," a young woman, Claire remembered that she worked with the triceratops at the park, spoke up.

Bishop and Dunham locked eyes with Owen, passing the briefing over. Owen cleared his throat and attempted to ignore the heartbreaking look on Claire's face while taking in the rest of the room.

"I have participated in or lead several rescue and reconnaissance missions in nearly every area Dr. Wu is attempting to infiltrate. If I haven't, Barry has. The strike team will consist of personnel the U.S. Military, Barry and I have agreed upon. Mainly S.E.A.L.S, some officers stationed in each of the area," Owen couldn't help but chuckle at the thought of the last group of people. He still couldn't believe the two of them had convinced the U.S. Military to agree to it, "A few mercenaries and arms dealers who have dealt with the militant groups Wu is targeting.

"And that's all we know for right now," Bishop interjected, "so for the time being, let's just focus on Phase 1. It is imperative this phase be completed as soon as possible. U.S. and Costa Rican military officials have requested a deadline of two months."

Groans and huffs of indignation and annoyance filled the room briefly before Bishop cleared shouted over the crowd, silencing them instantly, "Yes I know it's a pain in the ass folks. But it's what we've been given to work with. So let's get it done, and you all can go home," Bishop paused, waiting for any other grumblings.

When none came, he shouted out the command to get to work and the crowd began to filter out of the room. Owen, Lowery, Barry, and Claire stood up to walk out.

"If you all could stay behind just a moment," Mr. Dunham called out to the four of them, "Commander Bishop and I have a bit more to talk about."

Owen nodded to Dr. Grant, who stood waiting at the door, telling him to go ahead and get started. Dr. Grant tilted his chin to Owen and smiled at Claire before walking out the door, the skeptical stare never leaving his brow.

Once Grant and the rest of the room had cleared out, Dunham moved to close the door Bishop's voice dropped an octave as he spoke, "You all need to be aware that we've detected a mole within the operation."

"Damn," Lowery spit out, "Not even the first day and we're already into the espionage."

"Keep an eye out for any suspicious activity or questions," Bishop continued, ignoring Lowery's lame attempt at a joke.

"Do we have any leads," Owen asked as he crossed his strong arms across his broad chest.

"There are a few persons of interest. Corporal Jennings and Maggie Avery, the T-Rex handler, are the main suspects."

"Any ideas as to why?" Claire read Owen's mind, stealing the question before he even had a chance to speak.

Dunham shook his head, "Unfortunately, no. Aside from the fact that Avery worked with Dr. Wu very closely throughout the entire process of creating the T-Rex, there appears to be no motive.

"And as for Corporal Jennings, his record is clean and he has family in high places. Not only has he worked hard for his ranking, he has family to back him up.

"Ah, nepotism," Lowery interjected, the joke falling once again on deaf ears.

"So why not just arrest them and interrogate," Claire's brow furrowed as she worked through the problem. Owen nearly smiled at the sight; it was something that he'd sorely missed in her absence.

"It's better to keep them in the loop on Wu's plan," Owen began to explain, "that way, we have the capability of intercepting information and remain undetected. We can give Wu the illusion that he's a step ahead and maybe… maybe he'll get comfortable…"

"And slip up," Claire finished for him.

Owen nodded and Claire gave a faint trace of a smile.

The static and beep of a walkie-talkie caught everyone's attention and Owen realized it was coming from the one clipped to the back of his pants. With an easy, practiced motion, Owen unclipped it, raised it to his mouth and answered the page.

"This is Grady. Over."

"Owen. It's Grant. ACU needs Lowery in the control room ASAP. We've also located a few Gallimimus and one Pachy in the valley. We'll meet up outside the Control Centre. Over.

"On my way. Over and out."

Owen clipped the radio back onto his belt and moved to pick up his rifle that sat beside his chair. He stood up and slipped the gun strap onto his shoulder. Barry was already on his way out the door, Lowery and Commander Bishop following close behind.

"Good luck, Lieutenant," Mr. Dunham said, shaking Owen's hand before he walked out of the room.

Claire and Owen were the last ones in the conference room, a heavy silence falling over them. Claire looked him over once more. His gun was resting comfortably at his side, his strong jaw clenched and his left hand twitching slightly. She didn't want this for him. She didn't leave him to have him end up here. God, couldn't she do anything right?

"Good luck," Claire's voice was thick and heavy as she wished him well.

"You too," Owen smiled, "And try not to scare the little minions working for you."

"Ah yes," Claire rolled her eyes, "well, I am the Red Witch.

"Nah," Owen shrugged his shoulder, adjusting the strap on his right side, "People just never took the time to get to the real you. If half the people that called you that knew the real you, no one would ever call you the Red Witch."

Claire lowered her head in mild embarrassment before rising back up to look at him. A sweet smile stretched across his lips and Claire didn't even try to fight the grin forming on her own. His presence alone was a calming balm. Those green eyes of his peered into her soul and Claire, for a moment, let him see what she so often tried to hide from everyone but him: vulnerability, self-doubt and uncertainty….

And then she shut him out and those six months without her came flooding back to him and Owen took a step back to walk out the door.

"Be safe, Ms. Dearing," Owen winked at her and left the room.

"Be safe, Owen," Claire whispered back…. 

* * *

_Don't know if you guys are interested in this, but every few chapters I am going to list the songs that have inspired key aspects of each chapter as well as the song that inspired the idea for the story._

 _So here is the first part of the Playlist:_

 ** _Story Inspiration: That Moon Song - Gregory Alan Isakov_**

 _1.) Hold Back The River - James Bay_

 _2.) Hear You Me - Jimmy Eat World_

 _3.) I'll Be Seeing You - Billy Holiday_

 _4.) Just To Know You're There - Matt Wright_

 _5.) How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful - Florence + The Machine_

 _Again, please review!_

 _\- grayhello22_


	6. Won't You Lay Me Down

**Okay, here it is. Sorry it's taken so long to update. I make no excuses and only ask for forgiveness.**

 **So without further interruption, please read, enjoy, and review the next chapter of _That Moon Song._**

* * *

 **Previously:**

 _The static and beep of a walkie-talkie caught everyone's attention and Owen realized it was coming from the one clipped to the back of his pants. With an easy, practiced motion, Owen unclipped it, raised it to his mouth and answered the page._

 _"This is Grady. Over."_

 _"Owen. It's Grant. ACU needs Lowery in the control room ASAP. We've also located a few Gallimimus and one Pachy in the valley. We'll meet up outside the Control Centre. Over._

 _"On my way. Over and out."_

 _Owen clipped the radio back onto his belt and moved to pick up his rifle that sat beside his chair. He stood up and slipped the gun strap onto his shoulder. Barry was already on his way out the door, Lowery and Commander Bishop following close behind._

 _"Good luck, Lieutenant," Mr. Dunham said, shaking Owen's hand before he walked out of the room._

 _Claire and Owen were the last ones in the conference room, a heavy silence falling over them. Claire looked him over once more. His gun was resting comfortably at his side, his strong jaw clenched and his left hand twitching slightly. She didn't want this for him. She didn't leave him to have him end up here. God, couldn't she do anything right?_

 _"Good luck," Claire's voice was thick and heavy as she wished him well._

 _"You too," Owen smiled, "And try not to scare the little minions working for you."_

 _"Ah yes," Claire rolled her eyes, "well, I am the Red Witch._

 _"Nah," Owen shrugged his shoulder, adjusting the strap on his right side, "People just never took the time to get to the real you. If half the people that called you that knew the real you, no one would ever call you the Red Witch."_

 _Claire lowered her head in mild embarrassment before rising back up to look at him. A sweet smile stretched across his lips and Claire didn't even try to fight the grin forming on her own. His presence alone was a calming balm. Those green eyes of his peered into her soul and Claire, for a moment, let him see what she so often tried to hide from everyone but him: vulnerability, self-doubt and uncertainty…._

 _And then she shut him out and those six months without her came flooding back to him and Owen took a step back to walk out the door._

 _"Be safe, Ms. Dearing," Owen winked at her and left the room._

 _"Be safe, Owen," Claire whispered back…._

* * *

 _He had always hated hospitals and labs. Every hospital or medical barrack he had been in was so clean and bright that everything felt too sterile, or covered in blood and packed with people on the brink of death. The bright lights spotlighting the small hatchery in front of him and the fluorescents buzzing over his head didn't make Owen feel any better about this particular lab._

 _He stalked slowly over to the hatching station, carefully eyeing the four eggs wiggling and cracking on the table. Owen scrambled to get his latex gloves on to help the raptor out of its egg and to imprint on the creature before anything or anyone else did. A tiny squawk came from underneath the hard shell of the egg, almost signaling to Owen to pull the cracked shell off. He complied._

 _A bright yellow eye looked up to meet him and another squawk from the baby raptor echoed throughout the lab. Owen watched in awe as it and two other raptors poked through their eggs and peeled away the remaining shell. The fourth egg, he noticed, had not moved since he walked up to the hatchery table._

 _With the other raptors imprinted on, Dr. Wu and an assistant began to take measurements and vital signs, and run diagnostics. Owen stayed behind with the final egg. Minutes went by._

 _"Why isn't she hatching," Owen asked Wu over his shoulder, "She was moving five minutes ago."_

 _Wu looked up from his clipboard and glanced over at Owen and the unmoving egg, "Sometimes when chick is dying it will exert the last bit of energy it has. It's a last ditch fight. It probably had infection or a genetic defect that killed it. We'll throw it out when we're done with the viable assets."_

 _Owen had to hold back the snarl that was forming on his lips. When were these lab coats going to realize these assets were living, breathing animals?_

 _"Come on girl," Owen's voice was hushed and husky, as it always was when he first woke up, "I never did like it when a girl played hard to get."_

 _The egg began to move. Owen grinned._

 _"There you go, girl. Come on."_

 _Cracks began to form in the egg, "She's hatching!"_

 _Wu looked over, boredom stretching across his face, "Great. Less paperwork for us."_

 _Owen ignored the geneticist's pathetic attempt at humor, "Come on, girl. I've been dying to meet ya."_

 _A large chunk of the shell fell, tipping the egg over and spilling the baby raptor out. Owen picked up the chick the minute she began to cry. He pet her, checked how many claws she had on each foot and arm. The raptor began to nuzzle into the warm palm of his hand._

 _He was so engrossed in youngest of the raptor siblings that he didn't realize the other three had been placed back onto the hatchery table. Wu's assistant was waiting patiently for Owen to hand over the last raptor._

 _It was strange to think that one day the tiny creature in his hands would become one of the most dangerous predators ever to walk the earth. It was strange to think that he was in charge of training them. For research purposes, Masrani had told him, but Owen never really cared for the way Hoskins would roll his eyes at the philanthropic billionaire. There was an ulterior motive to all of this, but at the moment, Owen couldn't find a real reason to care. This tiny, admittedly adorable (in the same way that an owner would think his snake was cute) velociraptor in his hands was depending on him. They all were._

 _"Don't worry," Owen whispered to the baby dinosaur squirming in his hands, noticing the strange blue streaks along its ribs, "everything is going to be alright. I'm gonna take care of you."_

 _The tiny raptor squawked, much like a baby bird, and the others quickly followed. Owen couldn't help but smile._

 _"That's right," Owen, laughed, "I'm your Alpha. I'm gonna keep you all safe."_

* * *

The treetop canopy above did little to alleviate the burgeoning heat of the sun. Sweat stuck to the back of his neck and caught in the stubble on his face. His hair was drenched and his clothes were soaked. The earth was soft and muddy beneath his broken in leather boots. His palms were sweaty against the cool metal of his gun.

Owen, with Barry, Dr. Grant, and a few others behind him, slowly crept along the jungle floor. Animal calls, both natural and prehistoric could be heard echoing throughout. But there was a quiet in the air; a stillness that made Owen grit his teeth. It was uncomfortable and off-putting. Something was definitely wrong.

 _"Okay. Tracking says that she's roughly one hundred feet ahead. You should see her any time now."_

Lowery's voice, though calm and collected, did nothing to settle Owen's nerves. There were too many things that could wrong and he still didn't fully trust everyone behind him to do their jobs if the worst were to happen.

"And you're sure that you aren't picking up any other tracking signals?"

Owen's uncertainty about the situation didn't seep into his voice; even if it was seeping into his bones.

"Correct. She's the only one, Owen."

It was so final. _She's the only one._

 _She's the last one_ , Owen thought to himself. It's not fair.

A twig snapped and Owen felt a strong, sturdy hand on his broad shoulder. He glanced over his shoulder to see Dr. Grant, a tranquilizer rifle sitting competently but uncomfortable in his grip. The man wasn't looking at Owen, but to their left. A large group of tall jungle ferns, roughly four feet high, swayed slightly. There was no breeze.

Grant and Owen shared a nervous look before Owen chanced a glance at Barry. Barry raised his fist, signaling for the squad to halt. Owen and Dr. Grant studied the bushes. Owen raised his rifle, setting the butt of the gun into the crook of his shoulder, stalking slowly to the bushes.

The swaying stopped. Everything went quiet.

A screechy growl echoed through the forest as a streak of gray and white jumped out from behind the bushes. Owen jumped to the side and looked up. The animal had latched itself onto Ramirez, the tadpole of the group. Owen raised himself up and aimed his rifle at the creature. He heard a shot and glanced over to Avery. The young woman's rifle was still smoking from the shot that landed on the hind leg of the animal.

It only pissed the damn thing off. The creature's jaw unclenched on Ramirez's shoulder and moved to attack Avery, leaving Ramirez in a bloody mess crumpled up on the ground.

"Get him back to the truck!" Owen shouted out, stalking towards the creature that looked too much like a raptor for his liking. But the white color and the longer front arms gave it away. Jennings, Grant, and a Jarhead whose name Owen couldn't remember, rushed to Ramirez's side and began to pull him to the truck as carefully and quickly as they could. Owen, Avery, and Barry were left to fight.

First Barry shot, only slightly missing his mark as a bullet whizzed past the creature and Avery, hitting the trunk of a tree behind them. Owen squeezed the trigger of his rifle, hitting the raptor hybrid in the shoulder. A powerful hiss escaped the creature's mouth, turning his attention away from Avery to Owen. He watched, in the span of a few seconds, as the dinosaur stretched out his retractable front claws, burying them in the dirt as he prepared for the killing leap. Its jaws opened and its arms stretched out.

A blur of blue and gray latched itself onto the back of the creature, biting and scratching at the strong, leathery skin on its back and throat. Each animal tore at the other's skin, claws and teeth sinking deeply into flesh and muscle and bone. Growls, hisses, and screams rang throughout the jungle. Owen and Barry began to fire at the white beast, careful not to hit the blue and gray raptor fighting it off.

Owen aimed frantically as the creatures danced around each other. He squeezed the trigger of his gun again, this time in unison with Barry. Both shots hit the dinosaur in the head and in the back. It went limp; falling to the jungle floor like a sack of potatoes while the other dinosaur ran off.

Owen kept his gun at the ready as he walked over to Avery. She was shaking and her breathing was labored. Aside from shock and adrenaline she seemed more or less okay. Barry, gun still raised, slowly walked over to the dead creature.

Owen followed, his gun trained on the carcass while Dr. Grant sprinted back over from the truck.

"Hudson is driving Ramirez back to base. Then he'll come back for us," Grant was out of breath as he brought Owen up to speed on the wounded soldier.

Owen nodded, acknowledging Grant as he continued to creep to the dead dinosaur. Grant and Avery followed close behind him. Its hind leg was twitching weakly and its stomach moved slightly, a signal of shallow, labored breathing. The three of them watched as Barry cocked his gun before finishing the animal with one more good shot to the head.

Then silence.

"That's no raptor," Grant's gravely voice cut through the adrenaline pumping through their veins.

Owen lowered his gun and stared down at the dead animal at his feet. It was almost identical to the Indominous Rex, save for the size. Its mouth was agape and blood drenched slowly, but steadily through the litany of bullet holes that pierced its thick, leathery skin. Owen grimaced at the sight while Dr. Grant seemed utterly fascinated by it. The doctor kneeled down to inspect the carcass.

"No," Owen looked across at Barry, the two wearing matching grimaces. "No it's not."

A painful whine snapped the entire squad to attention. Owen raised his rifle again; unsure of where the sound was coming from. And then he saw it. He saw _her._

Blue was limping away from the group, swaying to the left and then the right. And then, she simply dropped to the ground, her pain-filled cries piercing the air and Owen's heart.

The former Navy man raced to Blue's side, Barry sprinting just behind him. Owen threw himself down beside Blue's broken body and began assessing the damage. Barry began to cradle the raptor's head, attempting to comfort her. Blue continued to cry. And Owen couldn't do a damn thing.

He looked over her wounds.

Several deep scratches from the mini I-Rex ran down Blue's entire left side and they were seeping blood. Her right leg was broken; some of the bone poked out from underneath the skin. Blue's jaw was slack, a sign that it may be dislocated along with the deep scratch that ran down the side of her face, from nose to eye ball. Blood poured out of every wound at an alarming rate. It was everywhere.

"This is bad, Owen," Barry's words were heavy and sad.

Owen looked away from the raptor and turned toward his friend. They'd been through a lot together, he and Barry. They never sugarcoated anything for one another; they were always straight to the point and quick to admit the truth. They were prepared for every possible outcome and were able to make hard decisions quickly and carry them out efficiently. But neither Owen Grady nor Barry Cisse was prepared for this.

But Blue was in pain without any remedy for her injuries. And Owen and Barry cared too much for the animal to let her suffer.

So Owen took one more look at Barry before pulling out the knife clipped onto the back of his belt and placing it close to Blue's neck. Barry began to pet the raptor's neck, whispering something in French.

"What are you doing," Corporal Jennings piped up, "we need to start loading the asset up."

Owen gritted his teeth at that word: _asset_. He opened his mouth to give a vicious retort to Jennings idiotic question. But the outstanding Dr. Alan Grant beat him to it.

"There is no way the raptor will survive the trip back to base," Grant's voice was stern and unyielding, "and she's in an enormous amount of pain. So Lieutenant Grady is going to do what's best for the poor creature."

Owen would have smiled at Grant if not for the dying raptor lying next to him.

"Our orders were to bring all assets to base. It's not up to you to decide if the animals need to be put down. We're simply the delivery service."

"No," Owen spoke softly, but still managed to leave Jennings shaking in his standard, military grade boots, " _You're_ just the delivery service. _My_ main job is to assess the health and viability of survival for each animal. And _I'm_ telling _you_ that this animal needs to be put down."

Owen turned his attention back to Blue, looking her in her dimming, dying eyes. Owen's right hand was stroking the belly of the raptor while his left hand steadied the blade at her throat. Owen's eyes filled with tears and he could hear Barry trying to hold back the water that threatened to fall from his eyes.

She'd saved all of them. She'd saved him _again_. And he couldn't do a damn thing for her.

"I'm so sorry, girl," Owen whispered so that only Barry and Blue could hear him speak, "I'm sorry that I didn't protect you."

And then Owen, with a sickeningly smooth precision, slit the animal's throat. A single groan escaped Blue's mouth and her feet kicked violently and her legs scuffled on the jungle floor, trying to get away. All the while, blood gushed from her throat and seeped into the muddy ground. Within moments Blue had bled out and lay dead in Barry and Owen's arms.

She'd saved them all. She'd saved him _again_. And he couldn't do a damn thing for her.

"Owen," the young man looked up over his shoulder at Dr. Grant, whose eyes were wide with worry, "you're bleeding."

Owen's eyes narrowed as he looked from Grant to Barry. His friend, still cradling Blue's lifeless head, was staring coldly at his friend's chest. Owen followed Barry's gaze and down to his chest.

He found a deep red gash, from the top of the ride side of his chest to just below his ribcage on the left. Blood was seeping from the wound. _Oh shit_ , he could see part of his collarbone. Suddenly, pain flared within his chest like a thousand burning knives. Owen's jaw clenched and his hands rose instinctively to apply pressure to the wound. But Grant had beaten him to it. _When had Grant come to sit behind him?_ Owen's eyes began to glaze over as he saw Barry pull out his radio, shouting out orders while Avery and Jennings began to search through their packs for any medical supplies.

Owen began to go limp, sinking into Dr. Grant. The edges of his vision began to grow dim. There was red everywhere. His blood began to mix with Blue's on the forest floor. That seemed fitting somehow. Sounds of the shouts around him were static, coming in and out like a weak radio station. He could barely make out Barry screaming into his walkie-talkie.

"What the hell do you mean? What happened to him?"

He knew that voice anywhere. He'd been on the receiving end of that murderous tone whenever he forgot to pick up his clothes or put his grease covered t-shirts in the separate hamper. But this was different. There was fear laced in her voice, pain and panic.

"Claire?" He tried to answer her.

Everything went dark…. 

* * *

Alright! There it is! As I said previously, I should be able to get another chapter up a little before Christmas. After that it's going to be a while because I have to travel for work for a bit.

Anyway, hoped you liked this chapter. Please, please, PLEASE, write a review for this chapter. It helps me as a writer to know what you all are thinking.

-grayhello22


	7. If You Loved Me, Why'd You Leave Me?

_**I am so sorry that this has taken so long to upload! Between work and the holidays, life has been pretty hectic. But, in my defense, it is a bit longer than normal.**_

 _ **Please read, review, tell me how awful I am to make you wait. Whatever!**_

 _ **Just enjoy.**_

* * *

 _The rain fell softly against the windows. Each thunk of the drops seemed to synchronize with his heartbeat under her ear. Claire lazily traced incoherent shapes and patterns against Owen's bare, sculpted chest while he softly snored. His arms wrapped around her instinctively squeezed her tightly to him. She loved days like this. She loved these simple moments with him._

 _They had been up late last night. Clothes were strewn across the floor, the bedspread had been kicked to the bottom of the sleigh bed and Claire quickly realized that neither of them remembered to blow the candles out last night. One of them still burned dimly, the others scattered across the room had died out. It was nearing ten o_ _'_ _clock on this soggy Saturday morning but Claire made no move to leave her spot by Owen_ _'_ _s nearly comatose body._

 _So she didn't. She lay there, tracing patterns and shapes across his chest and abdomen. Until she felt a long line of barely raised skin just underneath his ribs. Claire's brow furrowed at the discovery._

 _"That tickles," Owen's groggy voice cut through Claire's wandering mind._

 _Claire raised her head from his chest, propping herself on her elbow to get a better look at him. Owen's gorgeous green eyes were still shut, but a sly smile ghosted over his full lips. Claire's concerned express gave way as she let out a contented chuckle before placing a gentle kiss on Owen's stubbly cheek._

 _Owen opened his eyes and looked up at the pretty redhead above him. His face still held traces of sleepiness._

 _"What are you doing up so early, Red?"_

 _"It's not early. It''s ten in the morning." Claire practically rolled her eyes as she returned to her spot on his chest, head tucked underneath his chin. The pads of her fingers rediscovered the newly found scar on Owen's body and began to rub it over and over._

 _"I got that when I was about twelve. Dad was in rare form that night," Owen said matter-of-factly as he drifted back into a sleepy haze._

 _Claire didn't say anything as her fingernails traced the scar as if she could rub the raised skin down, erasing the mark from her lover's body._

 _She'd seen pictures of him as a little boy. He was stocky even as a child, with sandy blonde, wavy hair and gentle green eyes that held mischief, playfulness, and a touch of sadness that broke Claire's heart. She couldn't imagine how anyone could ever hurt the little boy in those pictures. But_ _Owen Grady_ _'_ _s childhood had more horror stories than most people had in their entire lives. And she hated hearing about it._

 _Every now and again, he would mention his father, on even rarer occasions his mother. But every time he did was a chance to heal and move on, and Claire would never deny Owen the chance to let go and leave the past behind._

 _"What happened?" Claire's voice was soft and Owen brought her a little closer._

 _Owen was silent for a moment, thinking back to that night, "It was the last time he ever hit me."_

 _Claire raise her chin to look up at Owen, who's own gaze was focused on the simple chandelier on the lofted ceiling. His jaw was set as he let himself get swept up in the memory. Claire wrapped her arm around his chest and Owen's free hand began to rub the soft milky skin of her forearm._

 _"I had just gotten home from hockey practice. My friend Ronnie's mom gave me a ride back. I don't remember where my mom was. But my dad was home."_

 _Owen swallowed as tears started to well up in his eyes so Claire gave him a gentle kiss where his neck and jaw met._

 _"He had gotten laid off from his job his at the factory…. The bus had come early that morning so I didn't have time to clean up my dishes from breakfast… he was throwing dishes… cussing. He saw me and just took his belt off. He yelled at me to walk over to him…. I… my legs just wouldn't work. That only pissed him off more and before I knew it he just started wailing on my. So I just kept my hands over my face… so I wouldn't get a black eye or anything…."_

 _"So your teachers wouldn't see anything," Claire finished for him. Owen just nodded._

 _"So may dad just kept hitting my ribs and my chest. It ended up tearing through my shirt and the belt got through a few layers of skin."_

 _The couple sat in silence as Owen's story came to an end. Claire tried, she always tried, to comprehend and understand what Owen's life was like as a child. She never could. Her family moved around a lot, maybe too much, when Claire's father was alive, but his job demanded it. But Claire grew up knowing she was loved and protected._

 _Where Adam Grady was abusive, absent, and inconsiderate, Oliver Dearing was encouraging, engaged, and thoughtful. Claire grew up knowing that she could be and do anything and if she failed, her parents where there to help dust her off and help her stand back up. Owen spent most of his adolescence with his head down to avoid getting caught in the crossfire of heated arguments between his parents, who were too wrapped up in themselves to pay any mind to their son._

 _"And then you went to live with your grandparents."_

 _Owen smiled at the thought and Claire was certain it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. God Bless, Nathaniel and Madeline Grady. The retired Chicago police officer and the retired elementary school teacher had taken Owen in, protected him and loved him and Claire only wished they were still alive so she could thank them in person._

 _"Yeah," Owen closed his eyes as the happier memory washed over him._

 _"I'm sorry you had to go through all that, Owen. I wish… I wish that I could take it back for you."_

 _Owen pulled away slightly to look at Claire head on. His jaw was set, his gaze intense and focused._

 _"It was awful, I can't lie about that, Claire. But I wouldn't change anything."_

 _Claire's eyes narrowed in confusion. Owen smiled slightly at the sight._

 _"Everything that happened to me as a kid made me want to be a better man than my father. Everything he did made me want to fight for those who couldn't fight for themselves. It's why I joined the Navy. And if I hadn't joined the Navy, I would have never ended up at Jurassic World and then I wouldn't be here. Right now, with you."_

 _Tears began to spring up in Claire's sapphire eyes as she cupped Owen's scruffy cheek. He pulled her close to him once again and Claire breathed in a deep sigh as she nuzzled underneath Owen's strong, square chin._

 _"I don't deserve you, Mr. Grady."_

 _"You're probably right."_

 _Claire swatted his chest playfully and Owen couldn't contain the belly laugh that erupted from his lips. She then swung her legs over his waist as he rose to sit up. Owen's strong arms wrapped around Claire's trim waist as Claire circled her arms around his sturdy neck. The two sat in peaceful silence, happy to simply look at one another. A gentle hand rose up to frame the right side of Owen's face and he kissed the inside of Claire's wrist._

 _"I love you, Owen."_

 _A big, boyish grin broke out over his face, "I love you, Ms. Dearing."_

 _Claire's grin widened into the brilliant, megawatt smile that Owen couldn't get enough. She lowered her lips onto his, both of them smiling through it all…._

* * *

The rain was coming down in sheets and hit hard against the energy efficient, custom tinted windows of the medical ward room. The room was light with sterile, fluorescent lighting and a gray tint painted every surface of the room. Each pound of the rain drops seemed to synchronize with her heartbeat thudding in her ears.

Claire was pacing the waiting room floor of the hospital in Puerto Limón; one arm was wrapped around her waist, the other fiddled with the simple, beautiful engagement ring around her neck. Blood was caked on her hands and pale blue V-neck. She would look over at the O.R. doors every few minutes, praying for someone to walk out and tell her that he was going to be okay. Then maybe she could stop thinking about everything that had happened over the past few hours.

Maybe she could stop thinking about the panic that coursed through her veins when Barry's frantic, panicked voice came in on the radio. Maybe she could stop thinking about Avery's shell shocked face as she pulled the truck up to the control center. Maybe she would stop thinking about Dr. Grant cradling Owen against his chest, trying desperately to apply pressure to the gaping would in Owen's chest.

Maybe she could forget the helicopter ride over. The quick, fifteen minute helicopter ride over to the hospital that was the best trauma center in Costa Rica. Maybe she could forget the blood seeping from his chest, how pale is skin looked, or how week he appeared. She'd never seen him look so week. _God what if they were too late? What if the ride took too long? What if Barry and Grant got him to the chopper too late?_

 _Stop_. Claire told herself. She glanced up at the clock on the nearly deserted waiting room. It had been three hours since they'd first arrived. The chopper came in a few minutes before Barry, Grant, and Avery were able to get Owen back to the island. IT was quickly decided that Claire would accompany Owen to the closest hospital. I'm his emergency contact, she had numbly exhaled at the sight of him. Commander Bishop and Mr. Dunham's eyes widened in surprise at her statement but Claire couldn't find it in her heart to give a damn. Owen needed to get off the island… fast.

"Ms. Dearing?"

Claire whipped her head around to the O.R. doors. A young man, no older than twenty-six, stood there, blood on his operating gown and fatigue on his face. Claire raced to him.

"How is he?" She didn't even try to hide the terror in her voice.

The doctor took a deep breath and Claire's stomach sank. But then she noticed the weak smile attempting to grace his lips.

"He will be okay. He lost quite a bit of blood. The animal ripped through several layers of skin and tore into his left pectoral muscle. It got to the bone of his left shoulder. It's a miracle no major arteries were hit."

Claire couldn't breathe. It was too good to be true.

"But he's okay?"

"He will have to undergo intense physical therapy and it is extremely likely that he will have very limited range of motion in his left shoulder. But yes, ma'am. He is okay. He's resting comfortably. I would take you back there myself but…"

"Don't worry, Dr. Valdez," Claire nearly laughed as she hugged the good doctor, "I'll find my way. And thank you so much."

Dr. Valdez nodded before walking over to the nurse's station to check a patient's chart. Claire took a step forward and opened the door to the recovery wing….

The first thing he noticed was the faint smell of her Burberry perfume. Clean, sweet, with just a hint of spice. The perfect mixture of scents that so brilliantly captured her personality. The next thing he observed was the thunder and patter of rain against the windows. Slowly and with a great deal of effort, Owen Grady opened his eyes to a warmly lit hospital room, with Claire Dearing curled up in what had to be an uncomfortable chair next to his bed. She was asleep. Her head was leaning back against the chair and one of her hands was laced with his. Owen went to turn and touch her.

Pain shot through his arm and up into his shoulder and neck. He didn't mean to, but Owen couldn't help the yelp of pain that escaped his lips. Claire popped up from the chair, suddenly wide awake and by his side in a moment.

"It's okay, "Claire's voice was set, "you're safe. You're okay. Just, try and relax."

Owen grimaced in pain, his heart beating out of his chest from the ripping agony coursing through his left side. Then he felt her soft hand gently swoop back the hair that had fallen over his forehead. His breathing began to calm and his heart began to still. Owen craned his neck to look up at Claire, concern etched into the contours of her face.

Confusion and pain emitted from his blurry gaze and Claire's heart broke. He shouldn't be here. If I had just stayed… if I had just told him.

"Where am I? What happened?" Owen's voice was groggy and slow. He blinked several times in a vain attempt to clear the sleep from his brilliant green eyes.

Claire took a deep breath, "You found Blue."

Owen's eyes narrowed in focus now. His jaw clenched and an unbearable mix of grief and anger flashed across his face.

Claire continued, "And then, from what Barry was able to tell me, a smaller version of the I-Rex attacked your unit," she choked up a bit at that bit, unable to imagine what would have happened to Owen had Blue not been there to save them, "And Blue… she saved you."

"And I had to put her down," Owen's gaze was now fixed onto the empty white wall in front of him. His voice was cold and detached.

Claire nodded her head and swallowed the bile collecting in her throat as she continued, "She clawed you. She was…"

"She was trying to defend herself… protect herself from me."

Silent tears began to roll down Owen's scruffy cheeks.

"Owen, she was dying. There wasn't… it was the only thing you could do."

Owen closed his eyes, causing more tears to fall, "She didn't ask to be made. She didn't… It was my job to protect her. And I failed… again."

"Owen,"

"Why are you here?"

Claire stepped back slightly, his voice hard, accusing, and slightly menacing. She had heard that tone only a few times, and it was never directed at her. It was the timbre that scared several company lawyers and paparazzi who refused to leave her alone right after the incident. It was the voice he used whenever Hoskins was in the area. But never her.

"I'm your emergency contact."

Silence filled the room. Owen and Claire chanced glances at each other before lowering their heads in embarrassment and anxiousness.

How had they gotten here? She used to be able to talk to him about anything. He used to tell her his deepest, darkest feelings. They had been each other's rock, confidante…friend. They used to be able to make the other melt. And now… now Claire stood at the foot of his bed, trying desperately not to fiddle with the engagement ring around her neck because she wasn't sure she deserved to have it anymore. Owen sat, unsure of what do to or say. It was a position he wasn't used to being in, especially with Claire. And she was still wearing that damned ring around her neck.

"How long do I have to stay here? There's a lot of work to do and I don't want this place to waste a bed on me. I'm sure there are a lot of other people who need it worse than me."

 _Of course, he would be worried about that._ Claire nearly rolled her eyes but decided against the impulse.

"Just a couple of days. But I wouldn't worry about that. It's the physical therapy that's going to kick your ass."

Owen rolled his eyes dramatically and Claire couldn't keep the chuckle rising up inside of her from escaping her full lips. Owen smiled slightly at the sound that he hadn't heard in far too long….

* * *

Owen trudged into the small bungalow as he cradled left arm, nestled safely in its sling. Claire was behind him, carrying a large bag full of his bandage supply, pain meds, and antibiotics.

"Thanks for bringing me out here," Owen said over his shoulder as he walked to his bedroom, "I know it's kind of out of your way."

Claire nodded nonchalantly, "It wasn't any trouble."

She moved into the kitchen and began placing the medical supplies in what she deemed to be the proper place.

"Well," Owen breathed out heavily, "I'm just gonna hit the sack."

Claire nodded and smile slightly, "I'll be out here if you need anything."

Owen's head shot up and turned to face Claire as she lowered herself to the couch, placing a laptop and several ledgers onto the sturdy coffee table in front of her. He could tell she was tense. Her back was straight and her delicate shoulders were squared. Claire was in boardroom mode… self-preservation mode, he corrected himself. She was scared.

"Why you?"

Claire whipped her head around, auburn flocks dancing around her, hurt flashing across her face. Owen's gaze softened.

"That's not what I meant. I… Jesus. I just…"

Owen took a breath and Claire's gaze softened, a smile nearly forming on her lips, "I just know that you're probably crazy busy. The last thing you need is to babysit me. I'm sure Barry or Lowry could come and check on me. Or you could just leave me here. I am a 36 year old man.

Claire did flash him a smile, albeit a broken one, at his last comment. She raised herself up from the couch and walked toward him slightly.

"Lowry has enough to deal with decrypting Dr. Wu's files, and I don't think he's got a strong enough stomach to change your bandages. And Barry… between recapture runs and dealing with Corporal Jennings, he's going to have his hands full enough. And besides, I doubt he would actually hold you to your bedrest and limited activity restrictions."

Owen nodded as he watched Claire walk out to her car to get an overnight bag. He walked to the small kitchen and looked out through the patio door. The bay was churning, a sure sign of a storm coming. He heard the car door slam and for just a moment, he was back at the house in Pennsylvania. He was done with classes for the day and getting dinner ready when he heard Claire's car door slam shut… a sure sign that her new secretary for her new position at Masrani wasn't learning the job quick enough.

They would be opening up a bottle of wine right about now. Gray and Karen would be there too; they would be missing Zach and wouldn't want to spend much time in the house. Claire and Karen would begin talking about wedding plans and Owen would smoothly pull Gray out of the room and the two would sneak off into the garage and work on the Charger.

The slam of the screen door brought Owen out of his revere. He turned to see Claire, hair windswept and hands full with a small suitcase and briefcase full of papers as she made her way back to the couch. It was so close to being a normal sight but still so wrong… and Owen couldn't take it anymore.

"Why did you leave?"

Claire's eyes went wide at the sudden question. Her mouth went dry and her palms began to sweat.

"Because I know it wasn't a lie," Owen spat the words out through gritted teeth, "I know that you love me. Or loved me."

Claire's heart shattered in her chest at his doubt of her love for him. The cool metal of the engagement ring sitting on her sternum burned her skin. Tears stung her eyes and she didn't try to stop them as they fell down her flushed face. She never wanted this. Not for him. Not for them.

"I just need to know, Claire," he sounded tired. He was tired. How many hours had he spent trying to figure out what he had done wrong? How many nights had he stayed up, gazing at her empty side of the bed? How many hours had he lost staring at her abandoned clothes hanging in the closet?

"I just need to know why you left, Claire. You owe me that much."

Claire nodded in agreement. She opened and closed her mouth several times, starting to explain but unable to find the right words. And Owen just stood there, patient and understanding and it made Claire want to vomit. She didn't deserve his understanding or his grace. She didn't deserve any of this and she didn't know how to make him understand.

Claire lowered her gaze and walked across the kitchen to the small living room. The sun was setting now as she gazed out the window. The sky was full of blues and pinks and brilliant, bright oranges and yellows and for a moment, Claire felt warm and welcome and safe. Her gaze drifted over to the two standing bookshelves that sat beside a simple entertainment centre. They were littered with books written by famous zoologists, paleontologists, and animal behaviorists. But pictures were scattered amongst the books.

One was a picture of Owen's unit, huddled together just outside a jungle tree line that she assumed was the Congo from what little he told her about his time as a SEAL. His face was sunburnt and a scowl was etched into the contours of his face. Another was taken shortly after his raptors hatched. The four of them, each no larger than two feet tall, surrounded him as he passed out treats. A joyous grin was plastered on his face. A third picture sat alone on its own shelf.

It was old, the edges were yellowing and if she looked enough, Claire could see several creases from where the picture had been folded and stuffed into a pocket or pack. She hadn't seen it before but it had already become her favorite picture of him. Owen was a boy, no more than seven. His hair was unruly, much like Gray's, and grease covered his face and hands. Next to him stood a handsome older gentlemen, with a gentle smile on his face as he looked down at Owen, an arm wrapped around the young boy's shoulders. A motorcycle sat behind them in the background. Claire's slender fingers ran across the dust-covered glass of the picture frame.

"Do you remember when Villanova forced you to go to San Diego to help out with that desert reptile study?"

Owen wasn't expecting that to be the first thing Claire said after his heart wrenching declaration. Of course he remembered. It was the day he came home to find her gone.. to find his home empty and his life put on hold, "Yes."

"It was about a month after we got engaged," Claire turned around to look at him, but Owen got the feeling that she was talking to herself more than him, "you were gone for about a month and it was absolute torture."

Owen smiled weakly. He hadn't wanted to leave her so soon after their engagement. But she had persuaded him, like she always did, to see reason and go. She had always been the sterner one in the relationship, able to get work done in the face of emotion. He had to admit that it was nice to hear that it was just as painful for her to be away from him.

"You gave me a good incentive to go, if I remember correctly."

Claire returned a broken grin at the mention of the passion filled nights a week or so before she dropped him off at the airport. A promise of what would be waiting for him when he came back.

Owen watched Claire as she moved about the room, a mixture of confusion, annoyance, and overwhelming affection coursed through his bloodstream. If he was honest, Claire always made him feel like that. But it was as different as it was the same. Her shoulders were slumped with defeat. Claire Dearing never accepted defeat. The beautiful contours of her face that were synonymous with confidence only showed uncertainty. And those brilliant blue eyes that oozed power and prowess and strength suddenly shone with vulnerability and pain. Something had broken this fierce, loyal, loving, strong woman.

"Well, I hadn't felt well for a few days so I decided to go see the doctor."

A knot began to form in Owen's stomach as Claire's jaw set. She continued, "I was on my way… I was in the parking lot when… when I just started…" Claire's eyes shut tight as tears, "when I started to… bleed… God it was everywhere."

Owen couldn't move. His heart stopped beating, his chest tightened. And he finally understood where this was going, following her line of thought before she could tell him the rest.

"I…" she took a deep, shaky breath, "I called the office and the doctor… the doctor came out to the parking lot… And um…Apparently I had a mis - misca -" she couldn't even finish the word. She didn't need to.

Claire's face fell, sobs wracking her slender frame as tears drenched her face, "they said that, ugh… the doctor said that it would be… extremely difficult for me carry a baby to term. Something to do with scar tissue…." her voice broke, barely above a whisper.

A baby? Their baby. She was pregnant? She wasn't anymore. She lost the baby? She had a miscarriage.

"And the only thing that kept running through my mind was this… this sick, twisted idea that I deserved all of this. And I know it was wrong and I know it's not true but I just couldn't help but think that it was right. I was responsible for how many deaths, Owen? How many mothers and fathers lost their child because I didn't react quickly enough? Because I never spoke up when men decided to play God, damned the consequences?"

It was some twisted version of survivor's guilt. Claire still blamed herself for every death The Incident caused. She buried it down deep so no one, Owen, Karen, Zach, Gray, even Claire herself, would ever find the crippling guilt that threatened to take over. Owen knew that guilt, had dealt with it and he hated himself for not seeing it. He of all people should have seen it.

"And then I thought about how to tell you and about how you didn't deserve this… how out of everyone in this entire world, you deserved this the least. So I just… I went back to what I knew… this place, work, making myself useful."

God, he'd failed her.

"Owen," Claire groaned, pain and sorrow dripping off her words like the tears rolling down her face, "how could I face you? How could I tell you and break your heart again? You lost this place," she gestured at the flimsy walls of the bungalow that had become his home after his service in the Navy, "you lost your girls," her eyes darted to the picture of Owen and the raptors.

His voice failed him when all he wanted to do was shout out that Blue, Charlie, Echo, and Delta were nothing to him compared to the girl in front of him.

"You lost everything because of me," it was killing Claire to say all of this, but Owen was right, she owed it to him, "I didn't… I didn't want you to lose the chance of having a family. You always wanted a family."

Claire barely spit the words out as Owen crossed the room and wrapped Claire in his arms, ignoring the searing pain running through his left side, as she finally broke down, her body crumbling against his. Owen sat down and pulled her into his lap and began to rock her back and forth. Claire's head found it's natural place in the crook of his neck, her hands wrapping behind his head as her fingers carded through his hair. Owen could feel her tears sting against his skin and in the back of his mind he registered the hot tears rolling down his face.

"I'm so sorry," Claire whispered, and the words broke his heart all over again, "I'm so sorry."

Owen kissed her forehead and pulled her even closer, "Oh honey," the words caught as a lump formed in his throat, choking the air out of him, "Honey, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Owen closed his eyes, more tears falling down his scruffy cheeks as another sob wracked Claire's frame that felt so suddenly fragile in Owen's big, rough hands. They held each other and cried for all they had lost: time, each other, their future… a child. Owen and Claire simply held each other and cried….

* * *

 _ **Okay. This chapter was very difficult to write and I hope that I didn't offend anyone with my handling of Claire and Owen's tragedy. If I did, it was certainly not my intent. The miscarriage was the main reason this chapter took so long to write. It was the plan from the beginning, not just a decision I made out of nowhere.**_

 _ **Please drop a review and let me know what you thought.**_

 _ **-grayhello22**_


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